


Lost Thunder

by AshenAura



Series: Black Clover - Origins [1]
Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Related, Canon Rewrite, Canonical Character Death, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24180889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenAura/pseuds/AshenAura
Summary: They call him a monster. A psycho. A freak.Why? He is nothing but a mere human. A boy who has to be strong to live in this rotten world. A child who only wants to make the one he loves happy. A wounded heart in search of love and acceptance...
Series: Black Clover - Origins [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900666
Comments: 14
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue - Unwanted, yet so precious

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write something about Luck's past. This version is based from the flashbacks of him that can be found in the manga/anime, with my own additions and point of view/theories.  
> I do not pretend to write the complete story of a character in Mr. Tabata's place, but I really, _really_ love Luck, his story and his character, so I wanted to give him some tribute. 
> 
> Luck's mother's name is from me, since she was never given one in the original series.
> 
> This story is linked to my main series, "Poisonous Sound of Thunder", (which first tome, "What's inside the Heart", is currently in progress), and shares original characters with it. However, you don't need to read this series to read this fanfic, nor do you need to read this fanfic to read this series. Both can be read separately.

Nature is so paradoxal. Why would its worst sides have to experience such malicious pleasure in wrapping themselves into incontestably beautiful masks? Only window-dressing to hide the cruelty of what they are bound to bring; to softened the tormented minds, before stabbing them even harder in the end… 

But still… these window-dressings remained wonderful to witness. So wonderful it became frustrating.

Harmony knotted abstractedly her fingers onto the stretched skin of her belly. The cold and humid wind of fall was blowing softly outside, making the leaves stream. Sitting behind the window, the woman shouldn’t have felt the breeze. But this house was old, too old; the isolations of the walls and windows had seen better days. As a consequence, a worrying cold prevailed in the abode. The absence of any light didn’t help this lack of warm.

But Harmony wasn’t feeling the cold. On the contrary, she was burning from the inside. Her breath was raucous, and sweat was pouring down her skin. By sitting next to the window, she hoped she would get some fresh air to appease the fire in her body…

Her blue eyes, which would be even more beautiful if it wasn’t for this dark veil of sorrow covering them, were lost in the distance. Outside, the wind was making the leaves stream gently. The trees had taken their autumn colors: all possible shades of red, orange and yellow were represented, bringing some light to a dull sky. But here again, it was all for show; the dark carpet of fallen leaves was here to remind it. Soon, winter would quench this light, bringing with him the everlasting nights, the sun-missing days, and the cold; that bitter cold which would make the current breeze so warm in comparison.

How long would this winter last? Would it come sooner than usual? Would it last longer than usual? 

Each year, this was always the same questions, the same worries threading her. And this year in particular, they were haunting her. Terrorizing her. 

A quick shudder made her belly vibrate like the skin of a drum. 

_He’s quite restless today as well…_

It had been months – how many? She had lost the count. – since she started to feel hits coming from the inside of her body. She wished she could have gotten used to it since, but each beat made her even more anxious. The fear was eating her heart each passing day, swelling like the flesh of her belly.

Harmony let out a sigh. How stupid she had been… She knew this would happen if she went to the whorehouse. 

But she didn’t have any other choice. It was in the middle of winter, and she didn’t have any money. She had lost her job – the employer had shut up shop. She would have never passed the winter if hadn’t gone there… If she hadn’t met this man…

He was rich. Of course he was. That’s the point of the place. But this guy… he was maybe a bit too rich. Or too generous. Or too condescending. He gave her enough money to survive at least three winters, maybe more. She didn’t believe it, at first.

_“You shouldn’t be wasting your life here. You’re a pretty girl: so find a good man and live a better life.”_

He didn’t say that harmfully. Actually, he had looked quite… sorry. 

Harmony clenched her fist. She hated that man. If she had to exaggerate, she would say she had hated him since the moment she saw him. If she had to be realistic, she would say she hated him after he told her those words. Pity was the very last thing she needed. Especially from that kind of person: those who thought everything could become easy if people dared to try. Those people knew nothing. Nothing about the life of commoners. Nothing about _her_ life.

And now, look at what he did. He had left her with a burden she had never asked for. That was all very fine to give her all this money… but there would never be enough for two persons. Especially when one of them was a baby. 

_I can’t even afford to live on my own… I can’t take care of a baby. They’ll be the end of me._

She had been telling that to herself for months, now. However, each time, there was this little part of her conscience telling her that come on, if she acted reasonable, she could give the baby the minimum necessary to live… Food, clothes, and – let’s be honest – even education…

_No, no, no! They’ll be nothing but a burden! I can’t… I can’t…_

Harmony had a lump in her throat. She had had countless inner fights since the day she felt an unfamiliar magic taking form inside of her body. 

She had thought about aborting, but immediately put that idea away. Not affordable. Ans above all illegal in the Clover Kingdom – only the richer nobles could afford such a choice. If they were to make such a choice to begin with; since they could give the child everything, why would they come to think about rejecting them before their birth? 

The sudden sound of someone slamming the wooden door with energy made Harmony jolt, rousing her from her thoughts.

“Harmony? Girl, are you there?”

Harmony bit her lip. She had recognized that voice. _Dolores…_

Not far from her home, a merchant was sometimes living in mere wooden house, which somehow always managed to stay unscathed despite being left most of the time, since the woman essentially sold her goods in the bigger cities of the Noble Realm, or even the capital.

The woman’s name was Dolores. Nobody knew her full name – she pretended having forgotten what it was. Harmony got to know her because she was the kind of person who always find a way to start a conversation with you, whether you wanted it or not. 

Though Dolores wasn’t always staying at Yvon, somehow her and Harmony developed what could be called a ‘friendship’. Dolores was the only person who seem to actually care about her… enough for going to see her each time she came back to Yvon, at least. Sometimes, she would even give her food or clothes if Harmony was in lack for the next months. 

But this time, the timing was bad. Dolores had left for months. She didn’t know about Harmony’s situation. And the poor woman couldn’t just show up like that in front of the merchant. She just couldn’t. how would she explain…? And what would Dolores think…?

Harmony was glad the house was plunged into the dark. The switched off lamps would get Dolores to think she wasn’t home. And indeed, the merchant eventually left. Harmony quickly stepped away from the window, in case her neighbor would come past it. She actually did, since Harmony could hear her grumbling as she used to do all the time. Maybe she was imagining it, but Harmony believed she had heard the word ‘job’.

Both frustration and guilt seized Harmony. What if Dolores thought she had still her job? She would be even more disappointed in her when she would learn the truth… 

Harmony suddenly staggered. She wasn’t sure if the beating she felt from the inside was coming from her racing heart or the baby’s movements. The living being stuck in her belly was now hitting it very hard. Harder than usual; like a fledgling trying to hatch. 

_Why are you so hasty? I assure you… this world isn’t worth joining. You’ll know nothing but pain, sorrow, despair…_

Harmony felt sick. Her legs seemed to have suddenly turned into cotton; at the same time, the rest of her body suddenly felt heavier. She rested against the wall, trying to catch her breath. She was burning from the inside more than ever. 

The panic made it hard to breathe. What was happening to her? 

Then, all of a sudden, she felt a warm liquid flowing between her legs. and right after that, the pain came. An unexpected, unsufferable pain. It was like someone was tearing the lower part of her body apart, and was burning the exposed flesh. A metallic smell rose in the room: she was bleeding.

She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know if what was happening was normal or if something was going wrong. However, despite the panic that was ravaging her heart, her mind became suddenly calm. She didn’t even cry, nor make a sound. Only halting little breaths.

 _The time has come._

More than a though, this was a form of natural instinct, which took control of her mind; because if she didn't know what to do, somehow, her body – her blood – knew.

Then, the pain took over her, and her body started to work on his own.

Minutes passed – an eternity. Then, in the stillness of the dwelling, a cry torn the silence. 

Without even realizing it, Harmony had taken a bed sheet and torn it any old how, in order to wrap the baby in it.

There he was. Yes, it was a boy. Blonde downy hairs were covering his round skull. It was difficult to tell at first sight, but it seemed to share most of her features. At least, nothing would remind her of that man… 

“And now… what?”

She heard her voice resonating between the walls. Now that the baby was out… what should she do? Leave and abandon him somewhere? Nobody in this town would like to take a newborn child under their care… No one had been living at the church for years; and the rest of the population were either nobles too full of themselves to consider taking the abandoned child of a commoner, or commoners who, like Harmony, couldn’t afford to raise a child. 

If she left him, he would die for sure. 

An irrational fear seized her. Would she be able to do it? To leave a child, to let them die this way? 

_But he will die eventually… I can’t raise him properly, I…_

A soft cry coming from the baby made her realize she had been holding him a bit too tight. She loosened her grip a bit, looking at the little boy as if she was watching some strange, unknown marvel.

Then her heart missed a beat. The baby was smiling. His small, invisible lips were stretched, forming a smile like had never seen before. 

_Why… are you smiling…?_

The baby moved his arms, and gave faint hits on her breast. Without thinking, guided by her instinct, she naked it, and gave it to the little one. The baby hit the breast again, and started to suck as the milk flooded in his mouth. 

The miracle of life. The indescribable pride to have given life. The irrepressible maternal instinct, ordering her to protect the baby with her life if necessary. They were only window-dressing, meant to hide the cruelty of reality: a new life was a new mouth to feed, a luxury she couldn’t afford. And yet, it was still wonderful to witness.

Tears ran down on her face, in an uncontrollable flood. This baby was _hers_. He was her own flesh and blood. The purity and liveliness radiating from him made rise in her chest a feeling she had never felt before, a feeling so powerful she almost collapsed. 

_I’ll never be a good mother for you._

That was the first thing that came to her mind. Then, struck by some kind of common sense coming out of nowhere, she realized she had to give the baby a name.

“Luck.” 

Here again, she didn’t think. She just said aloud the first word that came to her mind. ‘Luck’. Good fortune. This little guy would need lots of it in the future…

But for the moment, he was only an innocent, painless living being curled in her arms. Moving unconsciously his tiny fingers, his small, invisible lips forming a radiant smile, he clung his head against his mother’s breast.

“I’ll never be a good mother for you… I'm sorry.”, she whispered softly while clasping Luck closer. 

One of the tears she shed fell down on the baby’s forehead. His eyelids opened slightly, revealing a pair of two pure blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry…”


	2. I - Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In this world, nobody is going to help you." That was Harmony Voltia's mantra. Her way of rejecting a world that had offered her nothing but pain.
> 
> However, there was a time when she knew she had a support. A person who would always try to help her a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I almost melted at each passage describing toddler Luck. 
> 
> Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter o/

Dolores coughed so hard her cigarette flew a few meters further from her. Snorting loudly, she rubbed her itching nose. Damn pollens… If she didn’t know the harshness of winter, she would have claimed for a long time she hated spring.

Stomping on her still burning quid as she resumed her path, the woman stretched out her neck and screwed up her eyes. The road before her was dusty, and a wicked wind had decided to blow the dust up as if he wanted the sky to be the same color as the ground. With the pollens from the resilient trees which somehow managed to grow on such a dry soil, Dolores’ nose had its share of tickling elements.

Since the wind had also drifted away all the clouds, the sun could grill the skin of her bare shoulders at leisure. Well, that wouldn’t be her first sunburns, she thought as she kept drawing her cart. 

How much time had past since she left Yvon for the last time? Dolores couldn’t remember. She had stopped caring for the passing days for so long, now. What mattered the most was how much money had she managed to get during her absence. And she had made quite good affairs during her last pilgrimage. The capital’s Black Market was really the best place to yield her poor profit. If only it wasn’t such a dangerous place… She had to come within a hair’s breadth of death nearly three times before she decided to go back to her town of origin, grumbling she will never come back again.

With the ease of those who are used to the movement, Dolores pulled out a new cigarette from her pocket, took a lighter and enlightened the thing, all of this with one hand and without slowing down on her walk.

The woman breathed out between her set lips, and stretched her neck again. This time, the silhouettes of the first houses of Yvon’s lower part appeared to her eyes. 

Though it was the poorest, most miserable part of the town, this was the place where she was born, grown, and probably where would die – if she kept on being lucky like in the market, that is… As such, she knew she would always feel this irrepressible nostalgia each time she would see the familiar roofs eaten by ivy, old brick houses, unpaved and dusty streets.

This was her home: she knew it, she _felt_ it from the bottom of her guts. 

Most of the inhabitants knew Dolores; by the name at minimum, while a few could recognize her face. Well, a woman built like a man, with variegated hair, that couldn’t go unnoticed, right?

Those who spotted her arrival waved vaguely at her. Sometimes she nodded in response. Sometimes she waved back. But never did she take her eyes off her path. If her attachment to this place was strong, people were people; they come and go like the wind. Therefore, Dolores never felt attached to anybody. The men and women she had shared a drink or a bed with were pure distractions. We live only once, after all.

Then Dolores drew level with one particular house. Nothing distinguished it from the other residences of the district: it was a dark brick-built house, rusty and bad maintained, like all its neighboring. And yet, Dolores could have recognized it among thousands. 

Without opening her mouth, the woman took a drag of her cigarette and breathed out. She pulled out her grimoire and muttered a spell. Immediately, the soil turned into mud, and surrounded the wheels of her cart. Rudimentary steering lock; but it wasn’t like anybody in this part of the town could break it…

The house she headed to was encircled by an area which could have been named a ‘garden’, if only the grass wasn’t so scattered and dry. Dolores went past the low dry-stone wall that demarcated it, and spotted the long blonde and messy hair she hadn’t seen in years.

Okay: maybe she had grown attached to someone regardless… 

“Harmony!”

Dressed in her sempiternal blue dress, the young woman hadn’t seemed to change at all. However, when she turned to Dolores an emaciated face, wrinkled too soon by exhaustion and pain, it felt like the two women hadn’t seen each other for a dozen years.

“… Dolores?”, Harmony whispered when she recognized the variegated-hair woman.

“It’s good to see you again, girl. It’s been a while… how many years, ya can tell?”

Harmony lowered her eyes for a second, then resumed hanging out the washing. Blue and pale green large clothes undulated gently under the breeze. Distracted by the hypnotizing movement, Dolores abstractedly thought there was something odd with the number of clothes hung up, or maybe the size… 

“… It’s been three years.”

Dolores was roused from her thoughts by the low, weary voice of Harmony. The blonde-haired woman still didn’t dare to look at her neighbor in the eye. A behavior that didn’t offended the latter for the least; she knew the young woman had always a very elusive look. But she also knew it wasn’t because of any shyness: Harmony was rather a coy and distrustful person.

_Crazy how I know her despite not being here that often…_

“But you came back two years ago, didn’t you?”, Harmony said, with a tone that made it sound more like an affirmation than a question.

“Oh, did someone tell you? Cuz I tried to visit you last time I came back here, but you weren’t home.” 

She curled up her lips in a grin, revealing her blackened teeth.

“I was kinda worried ‘bout you, girl. But I though that maybe you were at work. I always assumed you were the kind to keep your nose to the grindstone. And the last winters were awful, right? Did you feel the pinch?”

Harmony froze. The silence that followed spoke volumes.

Dolores sighed.

“Take care of yerself, girl, ‘kay? Did you find the little gift I left you last time?”

“… Yes, I did.” (Harmony clenched her fists.) “But I told you…”

“You told me you hated to receive free goods from me, I know. But I have plenty of them, and you won’t prevent me from giving you some food or silk for your clothes, girl. And I’m ready to do it again if you need i–” 

Dolores’s attention was then caught by a little blonde head hiding behind the house’s door. Two big, wide-opened eyes of a pure blue color were watching the two women from afar, shining with palpable curiosity.

“Oh…? Who’s that?”

Harmony jolted, and her eyes widened as well – but with fear. She turned on her heels and rushed to the door, where she crouched and called out for the little guy hidden behind.

“Luck…! I told you to stay inside!”

Dolores came closer, looked over the young woman’s shoulder, and spotted a little boy which was the spitting image of Harmony. The same blonde messy hair, the same blue eyes… The only difference was actually the smile that stretched the boy’s lips, something Dolores never saw Harmony ever do.

“Oh-ho~? Who’s this little guy, Harmony?”

The blonde-haired woman quivered. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, and this time, faced Dolores. The latter felt a weird chill running along her spine. The light shining in Harmony’s eyes was… disturbing. It was impossible to name the emotion that made them burn so fiercely. Anger? Fear? Determination?

As troubled as she was by such a stare, Dolores didn’t let herself be impressed. 

“You got a child? That's kinda unexpected.”

Gnashing her teeth, Harmony shifted her eyes back and forth, searching for something to reply. Dolores gave a glance to the little boy, who immediately hid behind his mother’s legs. However, he never quitted smiling, nor staring at the variegated-haired woman with his eyes full of curiosity.

Now Dolores understood what had bothered her when looking at the hanging washing: some of the clothes were shaped for a child. Though the blue tunic Harmony’s child was wearing still looked oversized for him, for it was extremely loose: the sleeves were almost hiding his tiny hands. 

“Who the old grand’ma is?”, the boy eventually asked with his reedy voice.

“Luck…!”

While Harmony was scolding him in a whisper, Dolores grinned and bore the ‘grand’ma’ appellation. If there was something she hated above all, it was to be called an old woman. She was only thirty, dammit!

“I’m sorry Dolores, he is not…”, Harmony stammered.

“S’okies, girl. He’s young and has a lot yet to learn.” 

She crouched to be at eye level with the boy, and gave him a smirk. 

“Hey, kiddo. Nice to meetcha. Your name’s Luck, if I got it well?”

The boy tightened his grip on his mother’s dress’ creases, and hid half of his face behind. Without taking his eyes off the variegated-haired woman once, he nodded slightly.

“The name’s Dolores,”, the merchant went on, pointing her thumb at herself. “And you shall call me by that name, and that name only. Understood? No ‘grand’ma’, no ‘madam’.”

The boy tilted his head to the side and, if he didn’t stop smiling, he knitted his eyebrows. 

“Do… ro…” 

“Do-lo-res. Simple to pronounce, right?”

“Do… lo…res?”

Dolores sniggered and looked at Harmony. 

“Heh. He gets it real quick!”

“Do-lores!”, the boy repeated while laughing. 

As if this little exchange gave him confidence, Luck stopped hiding behind his mother’s legs – though he never loosened his grip on her dress.

“Dolores smell bad from the mouth!”, he said cheerfully.

Harmony gave him a slap behind the skull.

“Luck! That’s not a way to speak to people!”

“Heh. He seems to be quite the chatterbox, huh?”

That was exactly the reason why Dolores didn’t like kids. They were unsufferable and inexhaustible hassles who just never know when to shut their mouth.

“But hey, don’t worry. I ain’t gonna eat your child.”, she grinned, seeing Harmony being as nervous as if she had said her thoughts aloud.

She stood up, and breathed out a cloud of smoke away from the two blonde heads. 

“And who’s the father?”

Harmony froze again. Sensing her distress, Luck lift up his eyes, his innocent smiling face silently asking what was wrong. Harmony cast glances at him, then tapped gently on the top of his skull.

“Luck, go play in the garden. But don’t go too far.”

Luck, still all smiles, obeyed docilely and went away by doing little jumps. 

Dolores followed him with her eyes for a moment before saying:

“Tough topic?” 

“… A lot happened while you were gone.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of time.” 

Dolores took a drag and set her intense stare on the young woman. Understating that she wouldn’t leave before she got an answer, Harmony sighed, and reconciled herself with telling her the truth.

“… My poor girl. How can you be so stupid…?”, Dolores sighed once Harmony finished her story.

The blonde-haired woman stared steadily at the laundry basket. 

“If I remember well, you already considered going to the whorehouse last time I saw ya. Because yer job couldn’t help ya making ends meet. I told you this was a bad idea.”

“… I hadn’t any choice. The workshop had to close down, and we were all fired. I…”

“You could have tried to look for another job.”, Dolores countered.

Harmony had a jittery laugh.

“How? To have a proper job, I’d have to go to the upper part of the town. Now, you know how the people are, up there. All nobles who live high off the hog. Their treat us commoners like nobodies.”

She lifted up her callous, yet so frail hands, and glared at them. They were shivering. 

“What’s more, my magic is so weak I can’t even work properly for a commoner. Let alone for a noble…”

Dolores remained silent. They were both aware of the gap that divided the social classes: even the weaker noble family would surpass the strongest commoner in terms of magic power. It was a fact they all had learnt to live with. 

However, if Dolores had always had the knack to fend for herself, Harmony could never stand this feeling of inferiority. Since Dolores had known her, she had always seen Harmony suffering this existence rather than fighting it.

But it was only natural, considering how little power she had.

Dolores tapped her cigarette to make the ashes fall, then gave a sidelong glance at Luck. On four legs, the little boy was chasing some insect in the bare garden.

“… How old is he?”, she asked.

“He will be three next October.”

“Hmm. I bet that isn’t that bad for ya. At least you’ll receive some aids… I believe you can when you have at least one child.”

Harmony nodded faintly, her eyes still lowered down.

“… You’re aware that’ll never be enough, right? You’d better find another job if you wanna have enough to eat for two.”

As Harmony remained silent, the merchant gave a frown.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on going there again?”

“I’ll never make such a mistake anymore.”, Harmony immediately answered.

She wasn’t lying: the anger and frustration in her voice spoke volumes about it. Dolores sniffed loudly.

“Then you should try and find something to help you two live. Now that he’s here, the least you can do is give him a decent life.”

Harmony absent-mindedly watched her child playing cheerfully. Her blue, beautiful eyes were shining with an indescribable sorrow. Was she envying her son’s innocence? It was so easy to smile and laugh when you had not any responsibility weighting on your shoulders each and every passing day.

“I’m gonna stay at Yvon longer, this time. Maybe for a few years.”, Dolores announced point-blank.

“What? But you…”

“Don’t take it like that, girl.”, the merchant cut her in. “I’ve planned it a long time ago. I’ve made quite good business back in the capital, and I’d like to go back working up there. But there’s been some clash and the lower classes ain’t as safe as usual.” 

“Is there any place in the world where they are…?”, Harmony muttered as if she was speaking to herself.

Without taking on her words, Dolores gave a shrug.

“Anyway, I don’t mind going back to the upper part of the town’s market. Maybe I can convince one or two nobles I’ve got real bargains… But sorry, girl, I’m annoying you with my life! I’ll go home and take a rest.”

Dolores tapped briefly on the young woman’s shoulder, with a more solemn look in the eye.

“You know where to knock if you need anything. Same goes for yer child.”

She turned her back to Harmony, and proceeded to leave. She knew Harmony would never call her or go see her, even if she ended up broken very, very low. But maybe with a child under her responsibility, she would reconsider such a behavior…? 

_Why do I even bother worrying about it…? We’re both commoners, and even I can’t afford to help someone without putting my own situation on the edge._

Dolores shrugged in response to her own interrogation. Maybe there wasn’t any reason at all. She kind of appreciated Harmony, despite her annoying stubborn temperament. 

_Hm. Maybe that’s more pity than actual affection. That poor girl doesn’t deserve such a hand to mouth life…_

_Let alone the child._

When she went past the low wall in the other way, Dolores stub out her cigarette end on it, and went to her cart. 

In the meantime, Luck, had caught the beetle he was chasing; he was meticulously tearing its legs apart, when a sudden thrill seized him. Like an electric discharge running along his spine 

Losing interest in the mutilated insect, he stood up and, as if guided by an invisible call, came closer to the garden’s entrance, where the woman who talk to his mother had parked her cart. The boy put himself on tiptoe, and observed the stranger. 

Taking a book out of her bag, said stranger muttered something, and the mud blocking the wheels disappeared in an instant. 

Luck opened his eyes wider, astounded.

Dolores left without casting a glance to them, nor giving a wave. When she was nothing but a spot on the horizon, Luck jumped on his feet and ran to his mother.

“Mom, mom! What was it?”

Harmony gave a start when the boy grasped her dress, though he did it gently despite his excitement.

“That shined!”, Luck blabbered. “It was a light, and… pow! No mud on… on…!”

Since he didn’t know the word ‘wheel’ yet, he drew a circle with his little arms to .

“Ah… mud? That was certainly Dolores’ magic.”

His mother had said that as if it was nothing particular. Her reaction poured cold water on the boy’s enthusiasm; however, his disappointment didn’t show on his ever-smiling face. 

“Ma-gic…?”, he repeated.

“Yes… magic.” The voice of his mother had become distant, has if she was talking to herself. “Magic is what rules this world.” 

She raised her hands, presented her palms to the hung-up sheet, and Luck felt the sparkles tugging his skin again. Harmony’s hands glowed with a pale green light, and a soft breeze was blown from them to the sheet, which undulated softly.

“Wooow…”, the boy whispered, impressed. “I wanna do it too!!”

“… Yes, of course. You will…”, Harmony replied abstractedly.

Luck didn’t notice the sadness in her voice; he was too excited for that. Jumping and spinning, he crossed the garden in all directions while humming the word he had learnt: “Magic, magic~♪”

Harmony watched her son raising his hands like she did, and waving them clumsily. Nothing came out.

_It’s probably too soon…_

But one day, Luck would produce his own magic, too. What element will it be? Wind, like her? Or something like this man’s magic… Harmony didn’t even know what it was.

A thought then crossed her mind. She didn’t know who was this man, and she never tried to know. But if he was rich enough to go to the whorehouse, was he one of these arrogant nobles more powerful than the poor commoners like her? As disgusting as it sounded, Luck could have inherited of the man’s talent…

_Even if so… Luck is half a commoner. His magic will never improve correctly. He will remain weak… because of my weak blood._

Stifling her anger and frustration, Harmony took the basket and called out for her son.

“Luck, come inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

Luck had sat down, surprisingly calm. With his tongue stuck out as a testimony of his deep concentration, he was looking at his hands, as if he tried to memorize their shape. Sometimes, he would move a finger or two, folding them meticulously, just like when he dismembered the beetle earlier. 

“Luck, I won’t repeat. Go inside.”

The boy eventually reacted to his name, and understood from her harsh tone he had to obey his mother. He clumsily stood up and proceeded to join her, still staring at his hands. Wobbling slightly on his feet, Luck made his palms face each other, in an attempt to mimic his mother gesture when she summoned the wind. 

As young as he was, he didn’t have any logical thought. He was only driven by a single desire: feeling the thrill running along his spine again. That tickling sensation on his skin…

Unaware of what her son was doing, Harmony was waiting for him at the doorstep, her eyes lost in the contemplation of the sheets streaming in the natural wind. She had tried to produce her own wind, but she couldn’t last long until her reserves of mana ran out. 

How pathetic… This was why she would never have a better life. ‘Magic rules everything in this world.’ That was what she told Luck, right? And it was the truth. The terrible, implacable truth. 

Suddenly, a huge cracking sound made her jolt. She barely had the time to turn her head to its source that she got blinded by a blue flash.

“Woooow…! So cool!!”

Once she could open them again, Harmony couldn’t believe her eyes. Luck was standing at the center of a little circle of burnt grass and soil. His blonde hair, normally slightly curly and floppy, was now bristly like the fur of a wildcat. Filled with wonderment, the boy looked wide-eyed at the tiny, crackling blue sphere of electricity nesting in his hands.

“It’s magic!”, he exulted. “I can do magic!”

Harmony blinked, finding herself unable to react. A thousand questions were making a jumble in her head.

 _Lightning magic…?_ How could this be? For all she knew, nobody in her family had this element… So maybe it was _his_ magic…

 _But… Isn’t it too soon?_ To say the truth, Harmony had no idea at what age children could start producing magic. She couldn’t remember the first time she did herself.

“Mom! Look!” Harmony hadn’t noticed, but Luck had been coming to her with his electric ball in his hands. “I can do magic!!”

The sparks were so tiny… Maybe the thunder-like sound was only a normal reaction, due to the magic being used for the first time by the child. And the burnt grass… it was already wilted to begin with. 

No, this was simply hopeless. No matter the person he had inherited his element from, Luck was and would always be a commoner, a lower class.

“Mom…?”

Luck had tilted his head, intrigued. If his voice gave away a faint worry, his face was still frozen in a smiling one.

Harmony forced herself to smile back at her son, and caressed his head. 

“That’s great. Congratulations, Luck.”

The boy closed his eyes and slightly blushed. His smile widened, tainted with pride and joy.

“It’s so pretty…!”, he said in a whisper.

“… If only it could be just as powerful…”

Luck blinked, unable to understand the meaning of those words. But as his mother kept caressing his head, he remained silent. The ball was still crackling between his fingers, projecting faint blue flashes on them.

He kept staring at it, overjoyed. The tickling feeling was back; Luck could feel the energy running in his veins. He could feel it rising, coming to his hands, to his fingers, and turn into those little sparks, all _by his command_.

Magic. The word was as full of mystery and beauty as what it described. And it gave two-year-old Luck his first taste of the headiest, the most incredible feeling in the world.

The feeling of _power_.


	3. II - Freak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the years pass, Luck starts to discover the world. But his first social interactions will show that something is definitly off with his attitude...

Luck entered school at the age of five. He could have entered at the age of three, but school wasn’t mandatory for peasants and commoners before the age of six; putting at school children under this age was only function of the family’s means.

Now, Luck’s mother still hadn’t found a new job. She could only rely on the monthly pension granted to the families in financial difficulties, as long as they had at least one child. But this pension wasn’t of any help, for it barely reached the minimum wage of the poorest artisan in town. Oh, how the kingdom could promise you “equity” between the social classes! Only a tissue of lies. But how could the poor ones who benefited of it complain? At least they were given something. Even if it was peanuts, it was still better than nothing, and they were dead aware that nothing they would have if they were to complain.

The money _that_ man gave Harmony, that dirty money, had dried up. The few that remained, Harmony had decided it would be dedicated to Luck’s education. A boy with a minimum knowledge and education was better than a complete illiterate. People would be more inclined to hire him for little jobs a little more well-paid than just sweeping at some measly pub.

However, Luck would still have to not mess everything up…

Harmony couldn’t admit it, but the real reason why she suddenly put away her fears of sending Luck to the hostile environment that was school, was because she wanted to get freed from the presence of her child. Because she wanted to leave him in the care of another, should it be a noble. For the more years passed, the more her son was frightening her. Something was definitively off with him.

With his habit of smiling everytime to begin with. Not a single time in five years did Harmony see her son’s lips lowering, or being twisted by fear, anger or pain. instead, they always remained frozen into a static, eerie smile. Luck fell and got injured while playing? He smiled. Luck did something stupid and got rebuked? He smiled again. 

It seemed nothing could affect him. As if… he was devoid of emotions.

Actually, his attitude was more ruled by two main states of mind. He could thus behave as an excited, inexhaustible ball of energy which would jump, roll and run with no particular reason, seized by some kind of a fever. Then, the very second after, he could suddenly sit down and stay quiet for hours, especially if he had found something to keep his hands busy. 

However, if he was given a simple task, like put socks in order, he would either do it with a patience and a rigor absolutely impressive… or simply destroy what was placed in his hands. Slowly. Meticulously. And no matter how many times he got scolded for that before. Sometimes, his magic was involved in his destructive urges. Until Harmony basically forbade him to use it at home. 

Harmony had spent days wondering what was the problem. Luck wasn’t a disobedient child. Generally, he would comply with rules and orders. But at some point, he just seemed to forget them. Or to decide abruptly to do things as it pleased him. And when he got scolded, he didn’t even look sorry or sheepish. Oh, he did apologize. But always with that smile on his face. 

That wasn’t normal. A boy of his age should be able to understand when something was serious, and put an adequate expression in consequence. A boy of his age should have already cried or gotten mad because of a wound, a whim or because something had annoyed him.

But not Luck. Never in five years did he cry or get mad. Never in five years did he leave his smiling expression. 

This wasn’t a problem of education. The problem was _within_ Luck.

Harmony couldn’t comprehend her son. Raising a child was already so difficult… Why in the world that one couldn’t at least be _normal_? 

“Maybe you should send him to school?”, Dolores had suggested when Harmony had told her about it in the course of one of the merchant’s visits. “He must feel lonely, playing alone in this bare garden. Meeting other people might do him good.”

Perhaps. Harmony had wondered. Wouldn’t the other people think like her, instead? That Luck was abnormal? And what could they do to him…? He was so simple-minded… What if they abused him?

The lack of money to come had been the decisive argument. With it came the logical reasoning about Luck having to get himself involved in their already hard lifestyle, thus receiving education, finding casual work for earn money… in a word, learning some sense of responsibility.

Still, she couldn’t help but think she was doing it for her own sake rather than for Luck’s. She hated to admit it, but this was exactly what a parent who just wanted to get rid of a child who was getting in the way would do.

Harmony had silenced these thoughts the day she had accompanied her son to school for his first classes.

In mixed towns like Yvon, where the gentry mixed with the lower classes, there usually were some private schools exclusively reserved for upper classes, and one or two public schools, where all social classes were mingled. It was in a school of the last kind that Luck was sent.

The little boy had greeted the news with a smile, as usual. But when the time had come to let go of his mother’s hand, his fingers had grasped it, with such strength it surprised the woman. Harmony had tried to spot any hint of what could have caused this reaction from Luck: fear? Disbelief? Comfort? But the boy’s face remained unreadable as always.

Irritated, Harmony had freed herself with more abruptness than she would have done. Anxiety was making her feverish. She had grabbed her son’s shoulders and had looked straight into his eyes.

“Listen, Luck. when you’ll be at school, you’ll have to listen to the adults. Do you understand? And be quiet. Don’t do stupid things, alright?” 

The boy had nodded gently. At least, his eyes were more expressive than his smile… though these bright blue irises that had stared intensely at her couldn’t provide her any more answer about how the boy was feeling. If they had tried to tell her something, she had not understood it. And she would have certainly not tried to. If Luck had something to say, then why didn’t he use his tongue?

After leaving her son, Harmony had proceeded to come back, before stopping, seized by another thrill of apprehension. When she turned to look at the impressive building, Luck wasn’t to be seen anymore. However, plenty of other children were arriving: those barons and vicomtes’ children, with bellies so plump and hair so greasy looking at them was enough for Harmony to feel like scum.

Her anxiety had only increased after this day, when she thought it would have gone down. There wasn’t a day when she didn’t mope in her room, wondering how her son was doing. Praying he would keep quiet. Praying the other children- especially the nobles – would leave him alone.

And above all: praying that everything would turn alright from now on. That Luck would finally stop acting like a freak…

♣~♣~♣

At first, Luck had felt a hint of fear when his mother sent him to this huge, dark and intimidating house, which she had called “school”. The only house he had ever known until then was the one where him and his mother lived, and he had never seen other people than her and their neighbor Dolores before.

At first, he thought his mother was abandoning him. He didn’t want to let go of her hand. the world looked so wide, so endless, so terrifying without her by his side. 

But when he was told he had to return home every evening, he had been relieved. And as a consequence, he had accepted more easily to be obliged to go to this “school”. Not to mention it seemed important to his mother; so he had complied obediently.

There were many other children with him. Some of his age, some older. Some dressed as poorly as him, some with more decent clothes, and others with clean, pretty clothes that seemed to shine in the dark. The different categories were all the more recognizable that they would never mingle, each one of them avoiding conscientiously the others.

There were also adults to make rules. They immediately forbid him to explore this unknown place. To be honest, the rules were almost the same as those his mother imposed him, and weren’t less strict. 

Luck didn’t understand what was the interest of obeying someone that wasn’t his mother. His mom was his mom: he obeyed her because he loved her, and because he wanted to please her. But these people wearing suits… these people who looked at him with either disdain or indifference… why would he want to please them? He didn’t even know them. 

However, his mother had told him he had to obey the adults in the school. Thus, he would do so. But only because that was his mother’s wish.

The reasoning wasn’t more complicated than that.

And Luck took quite good care over being a disciplined pupil. Though staying still on a chair made him feel so uncomfortable it was hard for him to stay focus on the teacher’s lesson, he just grinned and bore it, nodding docilely when he got rebuked because of his fidgeting. Apart from this little issue, Luck kept himself discreet and never tried to attract attention.

As he discovered his new environment with ingenuous curiosity, Luck quickly came to a clear, simple statement: the world was divided in two parts. 

Those who dominated and those who were dominated.

The former were often called by the latter “the nobles”. For the second part, the names could vary: sometimes the “nobles” would call them “scum”, “rats”, or simply “commoners”.

Luck already knew about the words “commoner” and “noble”, for his mother had often used them before. She had told him once that he and her were part of the first category, and that because of this fact, they couldn’t go against a noble’s order. Because they were more powerful than them.

These unfamiliar concepts his mother had taught him were put into images and sound, now. School was the perfect representation of the outside world; a world where people would rely on status to define who was the strong and who was the weak. Because a child was a “noble”, he could push the “commoners” in mud puddles, steal their lunch or destroy their belongings, all without being noticed by the adults. But if a “commoner” was even if only to speak to a “noble” in a relatively curt tone, he would immediately been scolded, or even punished in case of a more serious problem.

Luck watched this world from afar every passing day. And each time, he wondered why the harassed children never fought back. All they did was to suffer the inflicted torments without a word, then cry in a corner when being left alone.

Not that it revolted him. On the contrary, all these scenes he saw with every passing day could never affect him. Never did he feel any pity towards the victims, nor any anger towards the bullies. He just… wondered. For what motive the bullies harassed the commoners. For what reason the commoners kept quiet about it, or didn’t fight back.

He wondered, again and again, without finding an answer. By curiosity, maybe. Or perhaps because he felt like something was lost on him as he observed this world; a clue that would have washed away his cold indifference, and of course, this frozen smile of his. 

Then one day, Luck and his classmates began to attend magic classes. These classes’ goal was to teach the children how to use their developing magic powers correctly, by working on control, balance and accuracy, to cite a few.

Luck had almost jumped in excitement at the news. _Finally_ he would be able to play with his magic. His mother had been forbidding him from using it at home since he would always break something. Now that the teachers had said he could use it, even if it was under specific rules, he felt like he had been freed from some invisible chains.

During the lessons, the children were asked to summon their magic powers, making them grow, sometimes to shape them into simple forms like squares or circles. Some other days, they would be challenged to hit targets placed not too far at the beginning, and even farther as they improved. 

After a few clumsy attempts, Luck quickly got the knack with all the exercises. Soon, he became one of the better pupils of his group. But far from being congratulated for this, everyone just looked at him both confusion and suspicion. A mere commoner who improved at a higher pace than all his classmates of noble roots? That sounded too absurd to believe it. And of course, said noble kids were always reassured by the teachers about their potential, and convinced they were holding back in spite of themselves…

Oh, to be fair, Luck didn’t care about what the others thought. Receiving no compliments bothered him a bit, but as long his mother would provide him some when he returned home, he was satisfied. 

But that was far from being the same for the other kids, whose jealousy grew bigger with each magic lesson.

It didn’t take long until a group of bullies came to see him during a lunch break.

As usual, Luck was sitting alone on the root of an old tree that withered with the years, in a corner of the playground. Five children, aged from about five to ten, all wearing beautiful uniforms and impeccably combed, crossed the field and gathered around him. Nibbling the few kalokos he had for his lunch, Luck lift his smiling face up when he felt their presence near him.

“Hey, scum, I heard you were doing ‘good’ in magic classes?”, a blonde chubby boy, who also seemed to be the elder of the group, asked him.

“Heh, that sewer rat here?”, guffawed one of his accomplices. “Your brother would be the shame of your family if that happens to be true.”

Some giggles could be heard among the noble kids. A child of Luck’s age grasped the suit of the chubby blonde, his cheeks turning red and his eyes shining with tears. Luck titled his head. The two nobles looked a lot like each other, sharing the same blonde hair and the same chubby face; but he couldn’t remember if he had already seen this little guy. 

“Shut your mouth.”, hissed the elder chubby blonde. “I’m sure he cheated. My brother may not be a genius like me, but no commoner can beat him. I’m here to prove him that.”

His hands kept in his pockets, he plonked his foot against the root, next to Luck’s leg. The young boy didn’t bat an eye, still smiling.

“So, scum? Show me that magic of yours. I bet it is as pathetic as you.”

Sniggering from the other noble kids echoed to his words. Luck blinked, puzzled. Once again, he wondered why he should obey these guys. Obeying the adults was a thing, but the other children? His mom had never told anything about it. And this chubby guy looked too boring for him to give him attention.

So Luck went on nibbling his berries, without any word for Chubby Guy. Said kid looked at him in shock and disbelief, before his cheeks turn even more red than they already were. The sniggers resumed, and someone in the group even shouted a ‘What’s wrong? You can’t made yourself heard by a commoner?’.

“How dare you ignore me, you jerk?!”

Chubby Boy grabbed Luck by the hair and tried to pull him away from the root. But at the very instant his fingers folded, a jolt of electricity made him start and let go of the commoner kid. He stepped back and fell heavily on his butt, which caused a miserable squeak from his little brother. 

“Did you just _zap_ me?!”, the elder eructed while standing up.

Luck massaged his head where the guy had put his grip, and looked at him again. If he was already smiling, a hint of amusement arose in his chest. The round hair of the boy was now bristled like a hedgehog; what a weird and funny sight!

“What are you smiling for?!” A vein popped on Chubby Guy’s forehead. “I’ll teach you to make fun of me, scum!”

He made as if he was going to shoot into Luck’s hands, where the kalokos were.  
Instantly, Luck felt as if an electric current ran through his veins.

In the blink of an eye, he leaped backwards, his spine curving around the root, and dodge the shoot. The breeze that followed the move had a cloying smell of roses.

Chubby Guy tipped over. When his head was around Luck’s knees, the commoner boy straightened up like a spring and threw his feet against the noble’s chin. There was a crack, and Chubby Guy collapsed on the ground.

There was a pause, in which the other nobles gathered around fell silent, dazed at the sight of their peer. Luck stood on his feet after a backward roll, and followed their gaze. Chubby Guy was moaning in an incomprehensible way, holding his bleeding nose between his fingers. His brother squeaked again, and ran away without further ado. The other nobles would have liked to make fun of his reaction, but what happened had left them too shocked to even think about it.

As for Luck, his smile widened, while a little laughter shook his aching shoulders.

“Ha… Haha! You missed~!”

As if his voice dispelled some enchantment, the other children quivered and turned to glare at him. The stupefaction written all over their face had been replaced by a strong animosity.

“You find it funny to laugh at us nobles, commoner?!”, a young girl cried out.

“You won’t get away with this…!”

“Stop! What is happening here?!”

Before anyone could do anything, the adults came to pull the children apart. Chubby Guy’s little brother was crying while holding the hand of one of them. 

One of the teachers, a rather strong man, grabbed Luck by the collar and took him away. Luck’s first intention was to struggle; but he remembered his mother’s warning, and repressed his magic reluctantly. When the teacher talked about him potentially being expulsed for violence, he humbled himself even more.

They didn’t even ask him his own version of the facts. All they did was to put Chubby Guy to the sick room, and Luck to the teachers’ office so as to lecture him.

“No fights are allowed between pupils!”, the man who dragged him to said office scolded him. “I know where you come from, but keep in mind you’re not in your measly street fighting for a piece of bread! At least _try_ to be civilized!”

Luck nodded in silence. 

“… Do you understand how grave your misdeed?”, the teacher asked him after a pause.

Luck nodded again.

“Then stop smiling like that! Are you making a monkey out of me?!”

Luck shook his head to answer by the negative, a lump in his throat. This was exactly like each time his mother scolded him when he did something stupid. He apologized, but nobody believed he was sorry because he kept smiling. 

The man sighed and dismissed him.

“We’ll have a talk with your mother. Until then, keep quiet, understood?” 

“Yes.”

The mention of his mother made Luck’s blood run cold. She would be mad at him for sure. The simple thought of her features twisting in anger and her voice shouting at him was terrifying. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want her to be mad!

When he went outside on his way to his classroom, Luck stopped, and remained still in the middle of the playing area for a moment. He lifted his hands and pinched his cheeks, trying to pull them down. He did it again and again, despite the growing pain. And he would have done it all day if someone hadn’t called out for him at some point.

Luck returned into the classroom, with his heart sinking while his lips were still lifted up.

No, it was no use. He couldn’t stop smiling. He couldn’t help but have his lips forming a weird, eerie grin on his face.

♣~♣~♣

“I don’t know what to do with him…”

Harmony was seeing the same images, again and again. That man from the school accompanying Luck on his way to home. His severe gaze when he told her about the incident. His big hands waving furiously to match with his words. And Luck’s smiling face. Always. Always that smiling, expressionless face of his.

“Why can’t he be _normal_ …?”

These images had been haunted since. Not the words. Only the images. But no need to recall the words to be aware that Luck almost screwed everything up. All because of irresponsibility…!

“You’re tying yourself in knots too much with this, girl.”

Harmony cast a sidelong glance at Dolores. Leaning on the window, the merchant breathed out a smokescreen, her stare lost in the distance.

“That was only a children’s quarrel. That happens. And if I got it well, your kid hasn’t been thrown out, right?”

“I told him to stay still… Why didn’t he listen to me?”

“Hey. That happens.”, Dolores repeated. “I get it that it scared the pants off you, but move on! It’s already been two weeks.”

“Why does he have to be like that? Where did it go wrong…?”

Dolores sighed wearily. Holding her aching head between her hands, Harmony heard her tapping her cigarette against the ledge. Or maybe was it her feet tapping on the ground in an irritated way?

“Listen, girl, I didn’t come here to hear you mope about this event all day. Get a hold of yourself, dammit! You’re as pale as death! And at this rate, your kid’s gonna grow as nuts as you if you keep having your heart in your mouth.”

“As if he would…”, the blonde-haired woman whispered. “I don’t think he would care. Nothing seems important for him.”

“Oh, come on…”

Harmony stood up abruptly, her anxiety turning into irritation.

“You can’t understand!”, she cried out. “You don’t live with that boy all the time and witness how much of a freak he happens to be!” 

“He’s still a kid.”, the merchant shrugged. “Some have to make mistakes to understand what is right or wrong. And honestly… I bet the noble kid started the fight. At least yours defended himself…”

“That’s not the problem!!”

Harmony joined Dolores at the window. Outside, Luck was sitting in the bare garden, playing with his hands. Or more precisely, with electric sparks he made crackle in his hands.

“Luck did something bad. A very grave mistake. But he didn’t even seem to feel bad about it.”

She shuddered, seized by a dreadful cold sensation.

“He was _smiling_ , Dolores.”, she whispered. “Just like he is smiling right now.”

“Hmm… You sure? Maybe he was making a face and you mistook it as a smile…”

“No. It was a smile. The same smile he has all the time.”

Dolores gave a frown. Exasperated by her perplex silence, Harmony shook her head. 

“It is so exhausting.”, she confessed. “You can never tell what he is thinking. He is never sad, nor angry, nor sulky… The only thing he can do is _smile_!” 

She sat down on again the cold tilted floor, scratching her scalp.

“If only he didn’t cause problems! But he’s so scatterbrained… You can’t ask him anything without having him screw it up! You would think… he is doing it on purpose! Just to have fun!”

The variegated-haired woman made a thoughtful face, as if she was searching for her words.

“Maybe when he grows up…”

Harmony snorted angrily. 

“I told you. You can’t understand.”

“I’m just saying you’re jumping too quickly into conclusions.”, Dolores replied with calm. “Maybe he’s still thinking life’s a game or whatever. I’m not in his head. But it’s kinda your job to make him understand what’s…” 

Harmony stood up again, and started to walk back and forth in the room. This conversation was already exhausting her. 

“Do you think I didn’t try?! I tried to be diplomatic. Then strict. I tried to yell at him. I even started to slap him, but nothing works!!” 

Without taking on Dolores’ flabbergasted expression, she went on, in a lifeless voice:

“No matter what I do, everything remains the same. I sincerely don’t know what to do anymore.” 

She covered her eyes, on the edge of tears.

“This boy is a lost case. At this rate, nobody will ever want him! Nobody will ever accept to be with him, to work with him! He… He’ll remain weak and alone! _Just like me!!_ ”

Her last words resonated in the silent room, durig what felt like an eternity. In a distant, hazy part of her mind, Harmony abstractedly noticed the crackling of Luck’s magic couldn’t be heard anymore. But despair was devouring her heart to the point she couldn’t be aware of anything else than the absence of future for her and, above all, for her son. 

Why? Just why did it have to be like that? Why did fate take so much pleasure to hound her?

“Harmony. Hey, Harmony!”

The aforenamed jolted when Dolores put a hand on her shoulder. As if she suddenly became aware of the gashes she was digging in her face, the blonde-haired woman unfolded her fingers and moved them away slowly, cautiously. 

“Listen. I have a suggestion.”, Dolores said in a soft, yet firm voice. “I’ll hire Luck to help me with my trades when he doesn’t have school. This way, not only will I be able to give him some pocket money, but he’ll have a look at what awaits him in the future. How does that sound?”

Harmony gave a distraught look at the merchant. Apparently not expecting an answer, Dolores took a drag of her cigarette and smirked.

“Since school is apparently not made for yer kid, he might as well enter the working world right now. If he gets used to it since his childhood, he’ll have plenty of time to change his behavior and gain some sense of responsibility.”

“But…”

Everything was happening too fast for Harmony. Her distress and her recent breakdown had moved her so deeply processing the information required all her will.

“But… isn’t it too soon…?”

“Heh, don’t worry. If it’s me, he’ll be safe. I’m not fond of kids, but I’m not a monster with them either. Plus, he knows me, now; that will make it easier for him, I believe.”

“… Why would you do such a thing?”

Dolores stubbed out the end of her cigarette on the ledge and, after a second of hesitation, put it into her pocket.

“Because it will benefit me?”, she answered, half-laughing. “But also because it will help ya a bit. I don’t share out my money, but I can pay a child who will work for me. Since you’ve apparently given up on getting a new job yourself…”

Harmony gnashed her teeth, but didn’t respond. The merchant was right, after all.

“Don’t you fear he’ll cause you troubles…?”

“We’ll see. If he does, then he’ll learn that he should watch his behavior for the next time. Don’t look at me like that! Sometimes, kids need a snub to be disciplined.”

The young mother shook her head faintly. She wasn’t convinced at all, because unlike Dolores, she was aware of how impervious to snubs Luck could appear. However… the idea was good. For lack of hope Luck’s personality would take a turn to the better thanks to it, the thought of having a source of income, even small, was tempting.

She accepted the offer.

♣~♣~♣

When Dolores went outside, Luck wasn’t playing anymore. Sitting on the low wall, his legs hanging in the void, he was staring intensely at the window from which the women had been watching him. When he saw her, the boy immediately jumped on his feet to join the merchant.

“Where’s Mom?”, he asked with his reedy voice.

If he was worried about her, his face didn’t give it away. Now that she thought about it, Dolores couldn’t remember seeing Luck being sad, afraid or angry. All the times she had come to visit the little family, the young boy always had a smile on his face.

_“You don’t live with that boy all the time and witness how much of a freak he happens to be!”_

Dolores made a face. Part of her wanted to take things pragmatically and believe that kid was only a cheerful one, and that he just knew how to move on after events of particular importance more easily than his mother. But after witnessing Harmony’s distress…

_Guess I’ll see it with my own eyes from now on…_

She sighed and answered the boy’s question:

“She’s sleeping.” (Hopefully it was true.) “Your mother’s very tired. She needed some rest.”

“Oh…”

Luck gave a faint nod, and lowered his eyes. Noticing his smile didn’t fade away, Dolores grunted and went on:

“By the way, kiddo, I have big news for ya. From now on, and each time you won’t have school, you’re gonna work for me.”

The boy blinked and tipped his head to the side.

“Work…?”

“Yes. To earn a bit of money and buy some food for you and your mom. You’re both skin and bones.”

Luck shifted from one foot to the other.

“… You too.”, he said.

Dolores flinched. If they showed no sign of worry or kindness, the blue eyes of Luck were staring at her with so much intensity it almost made it hard to bear his gaze.

_Oh, come on, that’s just a kid…!_

“No need to worry ‘bout me, kiddo.”, she replied. “You and your mother have to share food and all, so it’s more complicated than for the lonely bear I am.”

“… Why are you living alone?”

The woman clicked her tongue. That was one of the many reasons why she hated to deal with kids. These little devils seem to never be out of questions, and had a gift for asking the most embarrassing ones…

But since she was the one who offered her help to the family, she would have to deal with it.

“Personal choice.”, she eluded. “But don’t try to be like me, that’s an advice. Now, can I go back on the topic?” 

She proceeded to leave, telling the boy to follow her. As Luck looked like he was hesitating, Dolores added:

“Your mother’s ok with it, by the way. She’ll be glad you earn money for you two, y’know.”

The last argument seemed to convince the boy. He hopped to her, and followed silently, but not without a last glance towards the house.

“… Is Mom still angry?”, he asked after a moment.

Dolores observed him attentively. Apart from the smile, Luck’s face was expressionless. At least, a faint shudder could be heard in his voice when he asked the question, but except for that last element, it was hard to guess if he was worried or saddened.

“I told ya, she’s very tired.”, Dolores said in response. “She has a lot of things on her mind; that’s why you’re gonna start working a bit, kid. To ease her burden.”

Luck let out a ‘oh…” as if he had been given the solution of a problem he had been stumbling across. 

The two of them headed to the center of the Yvon’s lower part. On the way, Dolores outlined what Luck was going to do: each day without school, he would have to go to the flea market of the town center. There, he would go to see a trader – the one Dolores presented him when they arrived on the spot – and trade silver coins she would give him for various objects. 

“Then you’ll come back to see me, and I’ll pay you depending on the quality of your work. No breakage, no play with the merchandise, understood?”

Luck nodded, listening hard to the instructions. When they did all the way back, he even scanned the road from every angle, as if he wanted to print it in his memory. 

Many times during their walk, the merchant was impressed by his rigorous attention and his apparently sharp mind, since he understood everything after a single explanation, and managed to repeat everything perfectly when Dolores had asked him to do so by precaution. Not really the scatterbrained and crazy child Harmony had described her…

“You can start from today on.”, Dolores informed him about halfway. “If I remember well, you don’t have school?”

Luck confirmed with an energetic nod. Maybe was it the variegated head’s imagination, but it seemed his smile was wider, and brighter. As if he was smiling _for real_. But in that case, that came down to state the usual smile he showed all the time was his default face… which sounded quite creepy.

Then the smile returned to his original state, as Luck suddenly stopped in the middle of the road and pivoted his head to the side, looking at the distance. Intrigued, Dolores did the same. 

The road they were taking was bordering a series of fields, where peasants cultivated all sorts of cereals. As they were on the seeds period, a few flocks of crows could be seen flying over the fields, in search of food. The farmers, some holding their spades or their forks, the other summoning their water magic, were running across their seeds to protect them from the birds and their destroying pecks.

“There are more of these with every passing year…”, Dolores muttered to herself. “I guess I can definitely kiss goodbye to my rye bread.”

She proceeded to go on, telling Luck to follow her. When she noticed the boy was staying still, she raised an eyebrow. 

“Luck? Hurry up, kiddo: the night’s gonna fall soon.”

But Luck wasn’t listening. His eyes fixed on the crows and on the poor farmers who tried in vain to frighten them away, he watched their battle as if hypnotized. 

Then, when Dolores was about to take the child by the arm to drag him with her, Luck shivered so violently his whole body trembled. His fingers contracted suddenly; blue sparks were crackling between them.

Luck lifted his arm with undue slowness. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the birds. 

As if his slow moves had also hypnotized her, Dolores watched the azure sparks growing bigger, crackling louder as they gathered at the center of Luck’s palm. A white and blue flashing ball was formed; Luck folded his fingers.

When he unfolded them, the ball seemed to had vanished from his hand, launch at a speed too high for the naked eye; there was a thunderclap-like sound, followed by the throaty caw of a crow. The stroke bird fell, under the dazed looks of the peasants.

“What… Did you just…?”, Dolores stammered in a whisper.

Luck didn’t seem to hear her. His arm still raised upwards, he remained still for a second, then reiterated his attack. Another bird fell, and another one.

“Hey! Stop this already! What are you doing?!”

Dolores grabbed Luck by the wrist before he could launch another bolt. The young boy blinked and cast a glance at her, then shifted his attention back to the field. Some of the peasants were pointing at them, shouting words that couldn’t be heard because of the distance and the racket of the crows. Far from being afraid, the latter were gathered around the corpses of their deceased peers, hunger pushing them to turn into cannibal carrion feeders without an hesitation. 

Luck was watching the scene with his usual blank, expressionless face, when, slowly, his lips stretched into a thin, eerie grin.

“Hehe… Magic is so cool. Right?”

Dolores’ blood ran cold. If the child smiling in front of her was still Luck, his personality seemed to have changed completely. From a little ingenuous boy, he turned into a frightening, freaky child with a smile as dreadful as the scene he was watching. The change was so brutal he almost looked possessed. 

His smile remaining unchanged, Luck looked at his hand, then at the flock of crows, as if he was planning on attacking them again.

But instead, he whispered softly:

“But I wish it could help me to make Mom happy…” 

Dolores kept silence, uncertain about what to think of those words. Then Luck blinked and, in an instant, he came back to the obedient little boy he was previously. His eyes set on Dolores were silently asking: “So, are we going home?”. As if nothing had happened.

“…”

The merchant pulled him to initiate the movement, and the both of them resumed their path, without saying a word. Luck had found back his default smiling expression, and kept it until they reach their respective homes. 

When she sent Luck to his, Dolores found herself wondering if she hadn’t made a decision she would regret later.

_Come on, he just wanted to play with his magic. He’s a child, remember… You're just not familiar with kids..._

Without knowing why, she immediately felt like this was certainly what Harmony may have told herself when she witnessed this freaky phenomenon for the first time. 

A crow flying over her house with a loud caw roused her from her thoughts with a start. As she followed him with the eyes, she noticed the sky was growing dark: a storm was brewing. 

She scolded herself inwardly; she had never believed in bad omens, and she wasn’t going to start now because of a crazy little boy…

The distant sound of thunder prevented her from sleeping the night that followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you think youngster Luck should be protected at all costs. (Because current Luck is more the one you should be protected from actually x') )


	4. III - Loneliness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! I'm so sorry for the lack of updates >< I've been through a big lack of motivation to write... But now it is over. I'm glad to announce that Lost Thunder is back on a weekly basis! Please, check out the updates each Saturday from now on!

“7.500 yuls, please.”

Dolores took the rusted change the man gave her, properly ignoring the half-muttered commentary about the price too high, and handed the relics over. The client barely grumbled a ‘thanks’, then left without any more formalities.

Far from being offended – witnessing the opposite behavior would actually be the most surprising here – Dolores lit a cigarette, and counted the money she earned over the first half of the passing month. Once again, it wasn’t sufficient. Barely enough to pay her rent…

With a look up to the darkening sky, Dolores assumed she wouldn’t get any more money for the day. The clients were rather rare, probably feeling the bad weather incoming. Not to mention the commoners of Yvon didn’t all have the money to buy her goods. And the nobles… in all honesty, if one of those cocky morons, one day, dared look at her stall – supposing they would even come to the public market – Dolores would consider herself lucky enough to let down her merchant activity and try her luck at the lottery. 

The variegated-haired woman sighed, blowing out a smokescreen in doing so. She knew she had to reconsider her prices if she didn’t want to end up flat broke. But if she did…

“Hard day again, huh?”

Dolores bat her eyelids as a mere answer to her ‘stall mate’, as she liked to call him. It was nothing more than an old man having a permanent stall at the upper town’s market… but having stayed at Yvon for longer than usual, Dolores and him had become workplace neighbors, if that expression only existed.

“And we can be glad the heat finally starts to fade away!”, the gramps went on, waving his hand to simulate a fan. “It can be so hot in this street…!”

“I personally prefer sweating than being cold to death.”

She didn’t like nor hate the guy, but Dolores had always had a hard time with chatty people. And she had too much problems on her mind to feel patient enough to bear with the one she was stuck with.

“Sometimes, I feel like going to the Noble Realm.”, the stall mate said as if he didn’t hear her. “Up there, at least, nobody complains about the price…” 

He smoothed down his grey and bad-trimmed beard thoughtfully.

“My grandson left the house five months ago… right after he got his grimoire, actually. The road is long to the capital, and he sent me only two letters since… but I wonder if he’ll be ok working in up there. Tell me, Dolores, how is it in the highlands? Is there any good deal to make?”

“Honestly?”, the variegated head sighed. “It is like everywhere else in this world: you reap nothing without efforts. And when you start from the bottom, the higher you climb, the more efforts you have to pull off. What I mean by that is that commoners like us are mostly manhandled by our social status. You can have the best goods in the entire kingdom, of your hands are those of a commoner, to a noble’s eyes, your product will have no more value than a rusted nail, even with a competitive price.”

“Hm, I see… Well, my grandson has always been motivated and hardworking, so he may…”

Dolores wasn’t even listening anymore. Her gaze lost in the void, she tried in vain to let the tobacco appease her busy mind. She would have to negotiate with her lessor for the third consecutive month. If he didn’t kick her out first… 

Then, at one point, the stall mate mentioned a name that immediately brought her attention back:

“… this kid working with you? What’s his name again…? Volter… Boltia…”

“Voltia.”, she corrected angrily.

“Ah, yes, Voltia. My memory got a few lapses recently, but I remember his mother quite well – he does resemble her a lot, doesn’t he? It’s been a while since she came in town, though. Or maybe has she come to another shop, haha? But I saw this boy with you… I didn’t know she had a child. And he’s all grown-up now – time passes so fast… Oh, but I am digressing: I was wondering if you were going to keep him at your service? Poor boy may need this job to get some money, but with so little change, you can’t pay him without being in difficulty yourself…”

Dolores glared at the old man. On second thoughts, she despised such kind of guys. Chatty went together with nosy for a reason…

She chose not to answer, but that old fossil obviously insisted:

“Honestly, I think you’re wasting your time – and your money! – with this kid. Don’t take it bad, I’m just reasoning like if I were in your shoes… Because actually, there is nothing good in staying in this town anymore. The nobles steal all our money, by building all these infrastructures we commoners will never see – when I think our taxes make us contribute to that nonsense! A shame, a shame… And the bandits! I don’t even mention the bandits. Have you noticed how numerous they’re getting each year? And dangerous, with this… No, truly, we’re living such hard times…”

Dolores took advantage of the bandits’ argument to take her leave, muttering something about she had to check out for Luck, who was taking too long to come back. She didn’t wait for an answer, willing to get away from this man and his questioning worthy of a zealous Magic Knight as soon as possible.

But most of all, she was worried about Luck.

Her cigarette wedged between her lips, she went in the direction of the wholesale market at the borderline of the town, where she had sent the boy to take some furniture and other goods to put on sale. 

It had been… what? Four years, since she suggested Luck should work for her to get some money? On the instant, Dolores thought it could be a good idea to ease Harmony’s distress about both their poverty and her son. However, things had not been as easy as she thought. 

Maybe is she had believed in fate and other spiritual forces, Dolores would have said they were having a ball making fun of their misery. But it was nothing more than the consequences of things changing over the years.

Yvon and some little villages nearby were attached to a count’s earldom recently. The use of the money was on his decision, and he simply decided to use it in the nobles’ benefit, as if the commoners didn’t exist. While the latter had to work harder each day to earn enough to have a decent existence, the former were being given aids and other gifts, which they obviously didn’t need, considering how wealthy they were – not as much as the nobles from the Noble Realm, of course, but way more than half of Yvon’s commoners for sure… As a consequence, the income had drastically decreased over the past years for almost all the commoners, putting most of them in critic financial difficulty.

Moreover, such a gathering of noblemen, hence of wealthiness, consequently brought more bandits near the town. If they mostly aimed at the nobles, they weren’t against depriving some commoners of their goods.

Dolores pinched the top of her nose. She hated to admit it, but the fossil was right. If she wanted to improve her situation, she had better to put an end to her rental contract, take her belongings, and move to the capital – or any other town of the Noble Realm – to find better deals in safer towns. The Magic Knights were supposed to look after the whole kingdom, but it was obvious they were more focused on the towns closer to the capital.

However, for the first time in her life, she just couldn’t reconcile herself with leaving her hometown. And even though she would never admit it aloud, she knew it was because of Harmony’s worsening health condition.

As the years had passed, more and more difficult each time due to the decrease of the aids, the young woman’s state of mind, already frail, had progressively fallen into the depths of something between madness and depression. She had tried to find a job herself: but the amount of stress weighting on her shoulders induced anxiety crisis, sometimes extremely violent. As such, she ended up unemployed again rapidly. Which obviously didn’t help her hysteria; since then she couldn’t spend a day without taking antidepressants and other medicine.

In the end, the only one who could maintain their lifestyle to an almost normal state was Luck. And to be honest, in fours years, Dolores had found nothing to complain about concerning his will to work. Luck was polite and obedient, always listened carefully to instructions, and never complained about anything, no matter the difficulty of the task.

Alas, there was a rug. Dolores cursed him many times because of that, but it seemed Luck was unable not to run into troubles. You would believe he was searching for them. How many times did he lost or broke the goods he was supposed to deliver to Dolores so that she could put them on sale? Fortunately enough, he had never ran into to bandits, otherwise Luck would have had been either abducted, or beaten up very badly.

However, he did sometimes come back all beaten up… The wounds could go from bloodsheds on his nose, bruises on his knees or elbows, to sometimes even a black eye! When Dolores asked him how he got all of this, he would generally say he ran into a group of kids, one day nobles, the other day commoners, who made fun of him and gave him a hard time. 

“Why don’t you fight back?”, she had asked him once. “They’re mere kids, not bandits. If you don’t defend yourself, they’ll keep on coming harassing you, you know?”

“But if I do, the other children tell their parents… and they come to the house super angry. They yell at Mother…”

He had shivered. That was the first time Dolores witnessed a sign of something similar to fear from Luck.

“They yell at her… sometimes they are violent. And when I try to help her, she yells at me and hits me super hard after they go… Because it is bad to fight adults. Especially the nobles. She says I can’t fight them.”

_Because you’re a commoner, in addition to be a child._ Dolores had guessed Harmony only wanted to protect her child, but to batter him… she couldn’t imagine the fragile woman doing such a thing. Now, it was possible her mental state being frail because of all the stress factors could have changed her to this point, alas… 

But what flabbergasted Dolores the most was Luck’s take on all of this. The time he shivered from during his confession put apart, the merchant never saw, in four years of mutual work, the shadow of an emotion on Luck’s face. It always remained the same everyday: a blank, smiling face. Sometimes, he happened to laugh, giving away his amusement about something – he was still a child, after all. But the other times, he just blankly stared at people, and at the very world around him, showing off nothing but a smile. Even when he came back bloodstained and covered with bruises. Even when he acknowledged being harassed by other children. Even when he admitted his mother battered him sometimes. Even when he went to the apothecary to buy the medicine for his sick mom.

As if none of all this affected him. 

Dolores clicked her tongue, and quickened her pace. She didn’t want to believe her at first, but Harmony was right: that child wasn’t normal. There was something so… unsettling with him. In his overall behavior…

And that was exactly why he couldn’t be left alone. Not yet, at least.

And yet, she knew deep inside that she didn’t have any choice but to let the poor family fend for itself. She had to think of herself first… like she always did.

Dolores marked a pause, and bit her cigarette butt so hard she also bit her lip. Yes, she had to think of herself first.

Like she always did…

♣~♣~♣

Despite the burden on his shoulders, Luck was walking with a quick, light pace. The fingers of one hand facing those of the other hand, he was playing with his magic, trying to make the little lightning bolts he was producing circulate from one finger to the other. He was getting better and better at this little game each day, and that gladdened him. He was so happy to feel the magic electrifying – literally – his veins, bristling his hair, and strengthening his body.

As he wasn’t allowed to use magic at home nor at school, except for the magic classes, these moments when he was alone were the only ones he could let out the overflowing energy in him, and use it freely. And each time, it felt like he was seeing an old friend he hadn’t seen in years.

The sound of distant laughter made Luck pause for a moment. A few meters from him, a group of children was playing tag between the sheds of the industrial zone. The blonde head watched them as they were yelling instructions to each other, sometimes concluded with fake insults followed by a general laugh. 

Luck felt a lump in his throat. As much as it pleased him to play with his magic, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to have other people to play with him.

To have _real_ friends.

For a second, Luck was tempted to join them. But the memory of how some commoner children beat him down because they despised him or made fun of him stopped him in his action. And besides, he had to finish his work. If he got late, Dolores would be mad at him.

With a heavy heart, Luck resumed walking. His cheerfulness was gone.

Since he entered school, he had tried to make friends. Or at least, he never did anything not to make some. But the other children always gave him funny looks. Because he never reacted the way they apparently wanted him to react.

Once, a commoner child from his class had asked him how to use magic as smoothly as him. Since the use of magic was something natural to him, Luck couldn’t give him a proper explanation, but had suggested the other they should practice together. However, the ‘practice’ had quickly turned into an actual battle, obviously inequal. Way too inequal.

“You're rotten! You're no better than a noble!!”

That was what the other commoner had shouted at him. After that, all the commoners tried to avoid him. Some others, the most quarrelsome, even threw stones at him. He had tried one day to fight back with his magic; but the professors had caught him red-handed, and obviously, he was the only one who got the blame.  
His mom had become furious after the professors went to see her. 

Another time, a group a noble children had found him practicing his magic. Full of themselves, they had basically decided to sabotage his training by showing off their own magic. Being a simple mind, Luck had mistaken this for an invitation to train together. When the nobles had gotten zapped a bit too much for their ego to bear it, they had left without warning. The next day, their parents had come to his house. If it wasn’t for Dolores, who had heard the racket, Luck didn’t know what would have happened, but it would certainly have been bad for him and his mother. 

The young boy quivered when he remembered how mad she was after the nobles’ visit. She even beat him, to make him understand.

Luck shook his head. If he kept on racking his brain like that, he would never get back to Dolores in time. And being scolded once again was the last thing he wanted…

The boy took a deep breath, and called out for his magic; his one and only friend. Azure sparkles crackled around his limbs, as the energy rushed into his muscles like a powerful torrent. Luck jumped. 

Rapidly, the sensation of speed intoxicated him. The world became a blurry stain. The lands were scrolling below as he bounced again and again, gaining speed with each jump.

_Faster… faster!!_

Luck stretched up his arms, like a bird ready to take flight, and quickened his pace again. The heady feeling of flying freely, away from any dark thoughts, induced a genuine laughter. Magic was so amazing!

Suddenly, a surface he tried to lean on broke under his weight. Bothered by the burden on his back, Luck couldn’t find his balance back in time, and fell heavily on the ground. A cloud of dust and plaster mingled made him cough, and wet his eyes. Luck sat up, shocked but unscathed.

Immediately, his enthusiasm was showered with apprehension. _The bag!_ Quickly, the boy got up and, without even taking the time to dust himself, inspected the merchandise. A sigh of relief escaped from between his lips pinched in a compulsive smile: nothing seemed to be broken, fortunately. Dolores would give him a big hand if he brought back broken merchandise, therefore unsaleable...

Suddenly, an angry barking startled the boy. On the other side of the collapsed wall - the one that had caused Luck's fall – a gaunt dog rushed towards him, fangs uncovered, and drooling on his lips.

Luck's pupils dilated like those of a cat on alert. Instinctively, his muscles tense up like bows. Likewise, magic flowed through his body so suddenly that the lightning bolts that escaped from his palms cracked in a sinister way.

The dog was getting closer and closer; but at the very last second, he broke his momentum and gave up jumping. With a bristly coat, he put himself in a defensive position, ears back and chops rolled up in a threatening growl.

To his own surprise, Luck was not afraid. The animal's grunts were masked by the fireworks of his lightning. A ghastly grin slowly appeared on his lips.

Luck reached out his hand, and before the dog could make the slightest movement, a bolt of lightning struck him on the shoulder. The mongrel rolled on the ground squealing miserably. Luck watched him try to get back on all fours, his body stretched to the extreme. His heart was pounding. Impossible to focus on anything but the animal in front of him. Was he going to run away? Was he going to come back?

“Hey! What the hell!”

The voice, guttural, brought Luck to his senses. The lightning faded as his pulse decelerated. However, he remained tense, and though he was no longer as sinister, his face retained its eternal smile.

A stocky man, with sunken cheeks and unshod feet, rushed at Luck with a quick step.

“You little brat! Did you cause all this mess?!” (His eyes fell on the wounded beast.) “What the…! Even my mutt!”

“S-sorry, mister...”, Luck stammered. “It was an accident...”

He could go no further, for the man grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up as if he weighed no more than a feather of straw. The smile, omnipresent, wrinkled under the effect of the hints of beer exhaled by the lad. 

“An accident my ass! And who's going to pay for the low wall, eh?! WHO?”

He bluntly threw Luck, who crashed into the wicker bag. The crackling sound that escaped from it made the boy’s blood run cold. 

_Oh, no..._

But there was no time to lament: the lad was once again coming towards him, cracking the phalanxes of his fingers.

“I'll teach you a lesson, brat... then we'll go see your mother. I’m sure she’ll give me compensation…”

Suddenly, the same feeling he had had while facing the dog came back. But this time, he managed to associate a word with it.

_Danger._

His mind went blank. All fear, all remorse disappeared. His pupils dilated again; his eyes focused on the man like those of a hawk on its prey. The magic flowed in a furious torrent through his veins; azure lightning returned, this time surrounding not only his hands, but also his hair, his legs, his feet, his entire body. The smile, no more distorted by fear, stretched again, taking on that fine, worrying, threatening shape.

Just like his dog before him, the young man moved backwards. His mouth opened, but Luck didn't hear any of the words he said. As in a dream, the boy reached out his arm again, palm forward, and called for the lightning to gather there.

A crackling sphere, as big as a fist, had just formed in the palm of his hand when he was shaken violently by the shoulder.

“That’s enough!!”

The voice which brought Luck to his senses was familiar, this time. Trembling as his smile turned back to normal, Luck turned to the one holding him firmly by the shoulder.

“Dolores...”

“Who...” The man hiccupped; at the sight of his pale complexion and the sweat on his face, it seemed as if he had just seen a ghost. “You... I have seen you before in the upper town market. Is that your kid?”

"Heh. No way. That said, the junk you see at his feet and which _you_ broke when _you_ threw him away like a rag doll belongs to me.”

Without letting go of Luck, she reached out her hand as if to receive something.

“So if there's anyone who needs to demand redress here, it’s me.”

“Wh–?! That’s a fucking joke!! This punk broke my wall and attacked my dog…!”

“Your wall was an accident, and it’s certainly not worth the sales days I just lost.”, Dolores replied, pointing to the crushed bag with her chin. “As for your mutt, it was self-defense. But if you’re so eager to contest, maybe I should consider contacting the Magic Knights… Although I doubt they’ll side with a greedy man who just assaulted a child for no real reason.”

The last argument hit the nail on the head. The man’s features were distorted by anger; in desperation he spat on the ground and then moved away as quickly as he had come. With his tail between his legs, his mongrel followed him swiftly, despite a limping front leg.

“Tch. Apparently, it’s still going strong, the Magic Knights trick. Not enough guys with enough sense to think they’d take a thousand years to get back to that hole… Assuming a commoner’s quarrel would interest them to begin with.”

Luck blinked his eyelids, as if emerging from a dream. Without being reassuring, the presence of Dolores had removed the feeling of danger. However, the latest events had left him feverish and sweaty, as if he had had a sudden burst of fever. 

“Dolores, I...”

A slap to the back of the head cut him in.

“You stupid idiot! What the fuck were you up to?!”

Luck rubbed his head, confused.

“...are you mad because I broke the goods?”, he asked in a very small voice.

“Moron. I'm talking about what you were about to do before I got here.” She gave him another slap, this time on the hand.” You don't go around mugging people with your magic, dammit! Dogs are one thing, depending on the owner... ...but if you’d done the same thing to that fatso, there’s nothing I could’ve done in your defense. Do you understand me?!”

Luck shamefully bowed his head. Of course he understood. He had understood for long that fighting back brought nothing but trouble. And his mother was always the first one to suffer from it. He didn’t want to grieve her like the other times... 

But he couldn’t help it. Every time he was under attack, his instincts took over. He forgot everything: his mother, her anger, her warnings; everything.

“Wipe that damn smile off your face! Don’t tell me you’re finding this funny?!”

Luck shook his head. Of course not, he wasn't amused. He didn’t like to be scolded... and he was really scared when he saw the dog run into him or the big guy yelling at him. There was nothing funny about it, and he knew it.

And yet... he couldn’t stop smiling. His lips refused to obey him.

There was a pause, in which Luck refused to look up, fearing what he could see in the merchant’s eyes. finally, Dolores sighed. 

“Seriously… At your age, you should be able to control yourself, right? Do you understand that your face is your first means of communication? If you smile all the time, people will never believe you when you apologize or try to negotiate with them. They’ll think you’re making fun of them!”

Luck ducked his head into his shoulders even more. He was aware of this, too. But he couldn’t help it, either. Whatever the situation, a compulsive grin would always stretch his lips, and he couldn’t repress it, no matter how hard he tried. 

He had already tried to explain that to the merchant. Or even to his mother. But none of them seemed to understand his feelings. No one never could.

Suddenly, Dolores threw him a small purse, which he grabbed on the fly. The tinkling of the coins made him miss a heartbeat.

“...It's not payday, is it?”

“For this month, it will be.”, Dolores said in a dry tone. 

She tugged on her cigarette butt, suddenly looking pensive. Luck tilted his head to the side, feeling a little nervous. Without knowing why, he sensed that what was about to come would not please him...

“Listen, kiddo. I know it’s a little sudden, but I think we should end our contract now. In other words, you won’t be working for me from now on.”

The words echoed in Luck's head. However, he could not – or would not – understand their meaning.

“But... how am I going to help Mother, then?”

Dolores’ sad look surprised him as much as it accentuated his uneasiness.

“I'm sorry, kiddo. But I don't have a choice. Times are hard for everyone... I'm going to need to hit the road again to find new customers elsewhere.”

“… Why can’t I come with you?”

As she raised her hand as if to lay a hit on him, Luck cowered, ready to take it. But Dolores merely pressed two fingers on his forehead to push him backwards, without hurting him. Confused, Luck almost forgot to regain his balance.

“What about your mother, dummy? Who’s going to take care of her if you leave, too?” 

The fury in his voice intimidated Luck, who took a step back. 

“I hope you have some awareness of the role you have to play with her! She can't take care of herself anymore, it's over. Her health has gotten too bad for that. That's why you have to stay with her. She needs you. So for once in your life, be a responsible man and protect her! Do you understand me?”

_She needs you._ The boy’s heart leapt into his chest. 

“...but how am I going to help her if you're not here?”

“You'll find something.”, eluded the merchant, waving her hand in annoyance. “Don't tell me that in four years of service you haven't learned to manage a little on your own?”

Maybe he had. But the thought of Dolores leaving and abandoning him and his mother had the same effect as a drowning man watching his lifeline drift away. To fend for oneself was one thing, to be left alone was another... Unless Luck could convince his mother to help him so they could survive together; but nothing was less certain.

"Besides," Dolores said in a softer tone, "I’m not going forever, y’know. I’ll come back to this town, one day, lika I always did before. Consider it a test of independence, or something like that..." 

Luck nodded, though unconvinced. When he realized that he was still smiling, he felt sad that this tic was probably making him look like he was feeling confident when it wasn’t the case.

“Now, don’t waste your time saying goodbye to someone like me.”, Dolores told him. “Go to the apothecary and buy that medicine. That is the priority for now.”

Luck felt his heart sinking. He knew that for some years his mother had been needing the medicine more and more... But honestly, Luck would have preferred to bring him only the money. The month before, he had already spent almost all of his salary on the medicine. His mother had gotten angry with him. Saying that it wasn't the pills that would feed them. Which was true, but... 

"Come on, kiddo, go.”, Dolores became impatient. "What are you waiting for? You want your mother to get better, right?"

Luck shivered. Of course, he wanted her to get better. That's all he wanted. Seeing her suffer every day was unbearable for him.

_I have to look after Mother. I must protect her..._

He nodded as if for himself. Before leaving, he articulated a timid "thank you" to Dolores, though it felt a bit ridiculous for a parting – even if it wasn’t final. Then, he went towards the city, holding the small purse tightly against his heart.

As a precaution, he avoided using his magic on the way, so that he could see where he was going…

♣~♣~♣

The house was plunged into semi-darkness. Although the weather outside was clear and mild, Harmony had decided to keep the curtains drawn. She did this more and more often as the days went by. Seeing the outside made her anxious. The naked trees that adorned themselves with flowers, then green leaves, which then turned red-orange, before withering and falling with the snow... She couldn’t bear it anymore; to see this cycle repeat itself over and over again, year after year, without ever knowing an end. For her, it had become a prison, an inextricable labyrinth in which she wandered aimlessly.

“I’m home!”

For an instant, Harmony cowered in his chair, like an animal frightened by the arrival of a foreign soul on its territory. Then a voice on the edge of her mind brought her back to her senses. It was only Luck.

Yes, _only_ Luck...

Three timid little knocks were given on the bedroom door.

"Mom? Can I come in?"

The young woman shivered. The house was not extraordinarily large, and the number of rooms in which to take refuge in relative privacy was limited... but every time, Luck seemed to know _exactly_ where she was. Harmony didn’t voluntarily change rooms: she usually landed where her exhausted body wanted her to. But Luck always came out when she was still asleep, and she didn’t make the slightest noise, was even holding her breath... so _how_?!

The door creaked on its hinges. Luck obviously hadn’t been waiting for an answer to let himself in. Harmony forced herself to relax as her son crossed the threshold, but at the sight of his smiling face, she felt a wave of panic pressing down on his chest. 

There he was... with his demonic smile...!

“Mom... I've...”

“Where have you been again?”

The words had come of their own accord. The mixture of anguish, fatigue and discomfort that was upsetting Harmony from within made his mind hazy. She felt almost like an outsider in her own body...

“I was off to work. For Dolores, as usual…”

Dolores. It took a few moments for the moist heat that clouded her memory to dissipate enough for Harmony to be able to stick a mental image on this familiar name.

“And what's this?”, she asked, pointing to the bag in Luck’s hands. “Don’t tell me she pays you so little? When she lets you wander around outside unprotected?”

Luck tilted his head to the side, as if he didn’t understand. Then, after a brief hesitation, he approached and handed her the bag.

“It's your medicine. Dolores said giving it to you was the priority.”

The veil dissipated a little more, not without causing a certain migraine in Harmony. Medicine? Ah, yes… Anti-depressants or something...

“What about the money? What did you do with your salary?”, she croaked, holding her head.

“… Almost all of it went towards the purchase. There are a few coins left, but…”

Harmony got up so abruptly that she knocked her chair over. Luck moved backwards; but as his face remained unchanged, Harmony didn’t notice it.

“I already told you to be careful with the money! Times are hard enough, and you…”

A vertigo seized her. Harmony put one hand to her chest, where her heart beat the measure at a rate too high. Her vision became blurry: Luck appeared sometimes sharp, sometimes blurred.

“Go sell this thing.”, she ordered. Her voice was just a breath. “How can you eat properly if you don't have enough money…”

Luck opened and closed his mouth, without saying a word. His big blue eyes came and went between the bag in the palm of his hands and his mother, whose hazy mind ignited with impatience. 

“Didn’t you hear me? Come on, obey!”

Luck tucked his head into his shoulders, his legs trembling. For a short moment his feet moved as if he was going to turn back; but finally, he stood facing her and stubbornly shook his head.

“You need this medicine... to get better, Mom…” 

Get better? How could she get better? In this rotten world, where the weak could only crawl and scrape away a few crumbs to live…

Why did Luck refuse to understand their situation?!

“… Mo–”  
“LUCK!!”

Her hand flew. A clapping sound resonated between the walls, and Luck fell on the ground, his cheek turning red where his mother had slapped him. Short-witted, she grasped her own wrist, as if to prevent herself for going further. 

“Why can’t you just do what I ask?”, she said, her voice trembling as much as her arm. “How many times do I have to tell you?!”

Luck didn’t answer. Apart from the red point on his cheek, his face remained the same as ever. Blank. Unexpressive. Smiling. 

“Stop smiling like that…!”, Harmony croaked. “Get mad, cry… Do something _normal_!!”

Luck quivered faintly, but remained silent. And the smile didn’t go away.

His mother was fixing him, quivering feverishly. Suddenly, she let go of her wrist, and lift her hand again.

“Why were you born a defective freak?!”

And she hit him again. Luck didn't try to resist. _Of course, since you're too weak! We're both so weak!!_

However, it wasn't long before Harmony's forces left her. Feeling suddenly empty, she collapsed to her knees before her son. The latter cautiously spread the arms he had placed forward to protect his head, and stared at her again. If he was still smiling, in spite of the slap marks, Harmony no longer had the strength to take offence.

"Next time..." she articulated. “Next time... tell Dolores... tell her... "

A coughing fit interrupted her. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest that Harmony was feeling nauseous. Too busy fighting against her heave-ho, she didn't immediately realize that Luck had rushed to her side. His fingers, which were just beginning to grow longer and thinner, gently pressed her shoulder. However, anticipating what she would see, Harmony forced herself not to look at her son's face.

"Mom... you need to rest..." he pleaded in his little voice.

Eventually, the young woman's pulse slowed slightly, although the nausea remained. 

"Don't worry about me," she managed to say. "Return to Dolores, instead. You must finish your work... "

Luck shivered, and squeezed her shoulder again. Eyes down, he repeated what Dolores had said to him after she had given him his salary. Harmony listened without batting an eyelid. Her sudden crisis seemed to have drained her of all emotions.

Yet a laugh, which sounded more like a sob, came out of her hoarse throat after Luck had finished.

"It was bound to happen one day... She couldn't help us forever, it's impossible..." (New coughing fit.) "In the end, it's always the same thing. Every man for himself. There's no such thing as friendship, not in this world we live in… Yes. No one in this world will ever help us…”

Luck remained silent. Harmony still refused to look at him, fearing to see another smile defying the sadness of her statement. She wouldn’t handle it. 

It took a while before Harmony decided, on an impulse from her numb body, to get up and go to her room. Luck categorically refused to leave her until she sat down as comfortable as possible in her bed. Only when her son had left the room – not without wishing her a good night – did Harmony notice the bag of medicine lying on the floor, at the foot of the bed, next to a glass of water.

The young woman sighed. She tried as hard as she could to take note of Luck's gesture, not to mention it was one of the few times he stood up to her. But her mind had become foggy again, and was beginning to wander away.

She’d better not to think about Luck. The panic attacks would come back if she remembered his face, she knew it. Not to think of him... not to think of his crazy smile...

♣~♣~♣

After his mother's crisis, Luck spent the rest of the day, and even part of the night, playing with his magic in the garden. His mother had finally agreed to take her medication and was sleeping soundly under its effects. Luck knew it was for her own good, but he didn't like going around in circles at home while his mother was asleep. He felt even more alone than usual.

With a heavy heart, Luck tried to kill time by practicing aiming at a target while he was on the move. Only the fear of waking his mother because of the noise kept him from giving it his all, but the bluish flashes were still impressive in their intensity. 

If only his mother wasn't sick... if only he could help her be happy... then she'd love him for real, and he wouldn't be so lonely anymore. In the end, he didn't care about others. He'd rather have just one friend than no one!

Luck didn't stop making lightning bolts until he felt Dolores' presence as she returned home. He returned to his own discreetly, wondering when the merchant would leave. Probably the next day. But was she really going to leave the city without further formalities? Weren't she and his mother friends?

_"No one in this world will ever help us..."_

Luck's heart grew heavier when he thought back on his mother's words. He believed he was starting to comprehend something from them. It didn't matter whether people were nice or mean to them; in the end, they were all alone.

 _He_ was all alone.

The other kids were avoiding him. Because of his gift for magic, he had become an outcast: too gifted to be a commoner, too commoner to be a nobleman. Even his teachers looked at him like a freak, and avoided taking too much interest in him.

Dolores had tried to help him and his mother. And now she was abandoning them. Because he hadn't lived up to her expectations, Luck was certain of it. What else could it be…?

As for his mother... she was the one who had always been there by his side; the one who had fed him and raised him since birth... if there was one person on earth he really cared for, it was her. She was his world. His confidant. His only family.

But even she couldn't love him. Or rather, he couldn't even get her to love him. How did the other kids make their parents smile or laugh when they came out of school? What did he do wrong so that he couldn't do it himself? Was it because of his inability to produce the emotions she wanted to see on her face?

She needed him. But he needed her as well…

 _Crying?_ Oh, how he wished he knew how! _Getting mad?_ Why not, but he didn't know how to do that either. All he felt, all he had almost always felt in the nine years of his short life, was nothing but emptiness. An icy emptiness, which gnawed at his heart when he realized that no matter what he did, he was unable to bring joy or satisfaction to anyone.

The next day, however, an event that would change his life occurred.

Luck knew something unusual was about to happen when, one day at school, he and his classmates saw several other groups of students they had never seen before arrive.

"Come on, kids!", a teacher called out to them. "The day has come. Go get ready for the tournament!”

A tournament? Luck had no idea what it was all about. When he asked another student, the guy looked at him sideways.

"You were there when they talked about it, weren't you? Didn't you listen, gifted boy?", he laughed sarcastically. "Every year, mixed schools in Yvon and two other nearby towns have their students compete in a magic tournament. Supposedly it's to help us strengthen our magical potential... my eye, it's mostly to remind us of the overwhelming superiority of the nobles over the commoners... " 

"It's mainly to allow the local nobles to compare the strength of their children.", intervened another older commoner, who had listened to their conversation. "Not only is it a test of pride, but I've heard that there are stories of influence and alliances behind it. I mean, it's noble stories, all of that. We're involved in the tournament as a way for it to be socially fair, but we're actually here as a warm-up, and I’m being nice..." 

"That's right.”, the other sneered at Luck. "Even a magic genius like you has no chance against a nobleman. I can’t stand the sight of nobles, but it'll make me laugh when they’ll finally put in your place.”

Luck tilted his head to the side, assimilating the information as best he could – since some concepts were somewhat beyond his grasp. As he was still smiling, the other two boys exchanged a disconcerted look and then walked away without any further ado.

Fights? Did that mean they were going to be allowed to use their magic to fight each other? When it was normally forbidden? And even commoners could fight nobles – which was _even more_ forbidden?!

The grown-ups had really weird ideas.

Anyways, Luck obediently bend under the rules as usual, and followed his classmates and teachers into an annex building of the school – "the arena", as everyone called it. It was as high as it was wide and consisted of two rooms: a basement, which led to the other room though two opposing corridors, each closed by a portcullis-like gate, like those you could see in a coliseum. The main room consisted of a relatively narrow ground, to continue the comparison with a regular arena. Several meters high bleachers, capable of accommodating at least one or two hundred people, overlooked the field, offering spectators a breathtaking view of the fights that would take place below.

The students were divided into two groups, regardless of age, gender, or social class. Luck was invited, like the others, to wait for their names to be announced. When this would be done, they would be asked to step forward to the gate and enter the field. Then the fights would begin.

Luck sat in a corner, patiently waiting for what was to happen next. Around him, the commoners were getting restless. Some of the more fragile ones even went so far as to cry, barely comforted by a comrade at least as terrified as they were. As for them, the nobles did their best not to approach the commoners from less than a meter away, mumbling low comments about the filth of the place and the unbearable heat and smell.

Finally, a sizzling voice, coming from a microphone placed somewhere above their heads – Luck easily spotted it thanks to the magic emitted by the object – announced the beginning of the tournament.

"We remind you of the rules: the fights will be one-on-one, with no time limit. You are allowed to use magic in any form. However, magical weapons and other relics are strictly forbidden. The first opponent declared out of combat by the referee is declared the loser, and will have to rejoin the stands.”

Both excited and anxious murmurs filled the waiting room.

"The winner of the tournament will receive a generous prize money from Count Baltz, whom we thank for allowing us to host the tournament again this year. Now, young ones, please prepare yourselves. When you are called, please come forward to the gates.”

Luck sat down cross-legged, and swung gently. He was beginning to feel time dragging by, and it didn't get any better when none of the first names called were his own. Bored, he kept himself busy as he could by passing his lightning bolts from one finger to the other. 

However, when the fights began, the shocks of magic emanating from the other side of the gate caught his attention. All the other students had huddled up against the iron bars so that they could watch the duel in progress. Intrigued, Luck worked his way through them, using his short stature to avoid as much annoyed grumbling as possible.

When he was finally able to grasp the black bars, a scene like he had never seen before took place before his astonished eyes. Two children of his age, or perhaps slightly older, took turns casting spells on each other. Acclaimed by a concert of shouting and cheering, the two children seemed to be of noble descent, judging by their neat clothes. However, they no longer had anything to do with the proud and disdainful students Luck was used to see. With features distorted by effort and the rage to win, the two opponents competed with basic, but somewhat powerful spells in order to defeat the other.

Luck opened his eyes wide, absolutely subjugated. Magic seemed to almost dance in the stadium. Its presence was overwhelming, sending shivers down his spine. He squeezed the bars until his phalanxes, where small sparks crackled, turned white.

_We can really do that with magic?_

Suddenly, one of the two children fell to the ground. His water magic had failed to counter his opponent's ice magic all the way. A gong sounded in the stadium. 

"And the winner is: Alia Smith! Congratulations! Now, please make way for the next contestant..."

The girl, despite her obvious exhaustion, walked away proudly towards the gate opposing the one where Luck was hanging. A teacher who stayed to watch over the students informed his group that after each fight he would heal them with his recovery magic, so they had nothing to worry about.

Luck barely listened to him. And if he hadn't been forced to let go of the bars to let the next contestant enter the field, he would have gladly kept on hanging on to it. The spectacle of the magics clashing had left him in awe.

The following battles pitted students of noble blood against commoners. The disadvantage of the latter, often very great, meant that the duels were quickly dispatched, much to Luck's displeasure. With his face glued against the bars of the gate, the young boy devoured with his eyes what was happening on the field. The movements of the fighters, the way they charged their magic before attacking, the type of attack they produced... He scanned all this with rare attention, almost forgetting to blink so as not to lose a crumb.

Finally, the moment came when his name was announced. Luck was so excited that his whole body was vibrating. Yet he waited patiently for the gates to be fully raised and for the sizzling voice to command him and his opponent to step forward onto the field, to enter with a feverish pace.

"Pfft. Why does he get so excited like that? He can't wait to get sprayed, or what?"

"I don’t know. Maybe he's scared out of his wits and he wants to get over with it as soon as possible.”

Luck barely listened to the comments hurled behind his back. His eager mind was focused on the girl in front of him. Obviously from a well-to-do family, she looked much older than him, at least two or three years. Looking rather bored, she glared at him with palpable disdain.

The gates closed, and the lights above their heads intensified, so that the audience could see both opponents clearly.

"Next fight: Luck Voltia versus Lila Berlioz. Get started!”

Suddenly, there was silence. Or was it Luck's mind emptying to the point where he could no longer hear anything? It was hard to say. Facing him, the young girl brought out an orange flame in the palm of his hand. Without wasting any time, she pointed the flame in his direction, and from her palm, a jet of fire sprang forth.  
Luck's pupils narrowed, while the heat came gradually, as if in slow motion, warming his face up.

The flames raised a cloud of charred dust as they hit the ground. However, where the ground was burnt, Luck was no more. 

Flabbergasted, young Lila looked for her opponent. 

"Behind you!", someone shouted.

Too late. By the time she turned around, Lila had already taken an electric shock to the kidneys. She cried out in pain, and staggered.

"You crab...! This time, I'm not going to..."

She paused when she saw Luck's face, adorned with a smile as usual. However, perhaps it was an effect of light and shadow, or perhaps it was because of the confusion for having been so easily caught off-guard, but there was something quite unsettling about that smile.

For his part, Luck was not interested in the terrified expression of his opponent. Palm open, he called out for his magic, and lightnings began to take form.

_Can I really?_

The girl suddenly pulled herself together and attacked again. Once more, Luck dodged her spell with ease.

_Can I go all out?_

"You little...! Stop moving around all the time!”

Young Lila was on the verge of losing her patience. She tried her best to produce attacks, but Luck dodged them all without the slightest effort.

_I wanna see more…_

Without a grimoire, no child could produce spells complex enough to end the fight in one go. In the end, it all came down to technique.

And obviously, technique was a long way off for this girl. She was just making basic attacks by aiming at Luck, without bothering to anticipate his movements. While Luck had already perfectly assimilated his opponent's movements.

_... Now!_

Lila had held out her palm towards him again, ready to throw an umpteenth jet of fire. Then Luck suddenly rushed towards her. Caught off-guard, the girl didn't have time to change the trajectory of her spell: Luck was already at her level. With his palms charged with electricity, he scratched his opponent. Blood oozed from the gash formed on her arm.

_Not yet... It's still not enough…!_

He wanted to experience what he saw behind the gate. He wanted her to stop holding back and attack him at full power. So Luck stepped up his attacks, engaging in hand-to-hand combat. Blood spurted again. The girl tried to defend herself, but Luck's blows were too fast for her.

Thus, she lost her temper completely. Her magic suddenly increased. Luck backed away quickly, and as he watched her form a huge ball of fire between her palms, he felt his heart finally swell with joy.

_Yeah…! This is it! Full power!!_

Lila screamed, and threw the flaming missile. Lightnings, visible only to Luck, surrounded the fiery sphere, all the more intense where the mana was the strongest. The young boy relaxed, and let his instincts guide him.

Fast as the lightning that accompanied him, he shifted to the side, and jumped just before the flaming spell collided with the wall. Taking advantage of the blow generated by the collision, he rose a little higher in the air.

Then he clenched his fists, joined them, and called upon all his magic.

A muffled roar echoed throughout the arena. All those who were present got nervous, wondering what was going on. Suddenly, a powerful, azure flash tore through the air. The walls and the floor began to shake; the crystals of light all exploded at once. Most of the spectators cried out.

When it was quiet again, the air was saturated with static electricity. The arena was pitch black; someone shouted that magic crystals were being brought in for help.  
However, thanks to the faint light from outside filtered through the miraculously intact windows, almost everyone could see what had happened to the two children. 

The young noble was on the ground. All her pride and rage was gone. Wobbling, she tried in vain to retreat, her features distorted by an irrational fear. The kind of fear one feels when faced with a monster from which one cannot escape.

Luck, who for the first time in his life was dominating someone from all his height, felt his frozen grin widen in the elation. And he didn't want to repress it, this time.

The sparks that appeared at his fingertips crackled furiously, as if they could hardly wait to turn into another devastating flash of lightning. Before him, the wounded and bruised girl shook her head, barely able to talk anymore, begging for mercy.

Except that Luck didn't care about what she wanted. What he wanted was to let his magic run wild.

Without quitting smiling, he held out his open palm to the girl. The sparks gathered in, forming a flashing orb of lightning, ready to fall on its prey.

And this time, no one intervened to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wondered what was the reason why Luck's mom slapped him in the first flashback we get in the anime/manga. Sure, it was a quick way to tell the reader that Luck had gone through a terrible childhood because he was different, and smiled all the ime, etc. But I couldn't help but try to find a """valid""" reason; because why on earth would you hurt this cutie, even though he frightens the hell out of you with his smile, I mean what the hell is wrong with you- 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter and the next one were the hardest to write, mostly because their contain nothing but _pain_. Prepare the tissues for next week...


	5. IV - Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /!\ Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts, implied suicide /!\
> 
> I put this just in case... I know suicide can be a tough subject for some people. I am deeply sorry if my take on Luck's Mom's death hurts your feelings.

A dreadful silence had taken over the stadium. However, this silence felt heavy, still echoing with the blasting sound of thunder that had resonated within the walls a few minutes ago. 

The lights were broken. The new ones were late to be brought. Only the blazing rays of the dying sun allowed the public to see anything. But even if huge spotlights were trained on the scene, nobody would have believed their eyes.

Progressively, faint whispers animated the crowd, timidly murmured as if the sleeping force that had raged before them could awake again at any moment. 

“I can’t believe this. An ordinary citizen actually defeated a noble?!”

“It’s never happened in all the times our schools held this tournament…”

Standing in the middle of the field, Luck silently stared at the girl who had been his opponent. Her body, lying on the ground, still emitted a faint magic, meaning she was still alive. However, his last strike had left her unconscious, hence unable to fight any longer. 

The lightning bolts were still dancing around him, though more quietly. They had had their share. 

Luck thrilled. This had been the first time he used his magic without holding back. And it had felt so good.

So freeing. 

The young boy looked at his hands as if he was seeing them for the first time. The power rushing into his veins… that electrifying – literally – feeling of power… And the adrenaline of the battle! The heat of his brain analyzing every movement of his opponent, every crumb of the field, and gathering the information to find a way through to victory… 

It was so thrilling. So heady. 

_I want more…_

A flash above him made the boy blink, rousing him from his thoughts at the same time. The lights had returned in the stadium, as well as the crackling voice of the referee’s microphone.

“Err, hum. And so, the winner is… Luck Voltia. Please return to the waiting room. We will proceed to the next battle…”

The lack of enthusiasm in this voice blended with the general atmosphere. Everyone was under the shock. A mere commoner defeating a noble… 

How could this happen?

Luck, as for him, was far from caring about the reactions his battle had induced into the public. He had still a foot on the field, recalling the battle and how much fun he had experienced during it.

_More… I want more…!_

And more he got. As the tournament went on, his opponents became exclusively children of noble blood. And like the first one, he beat them after a thrilling fight, where both parts gave their all. But in the end, Luck remained victorious. And with each victory, the other pupils, the professors, and even the other adults lost more and more composure.

“And… the winner of the tournament is… Luck Voltia, from Yvon. Cong… congratulations…”

Someone tried to start an applause, but nobody had the heart to follow. Their eyes were focused on that ordinary citizen, coming out of nowhere, who defeated no less than four nobles in a row. And even after all these fights, he didn’t seem exhausted for one bit. 

Oh, but Luck did feel exhausted. but it was a delicious exhaustion. The one we feel after we gave our body a great and wholesome exercise. He was drenched in sweat and covered with dust, but he was exulting. 

Magic battles were so fun…!

“That’s impossible…”

“No way…”

“How can this be…?”

Luck startled. Suddenly, the presence of the other people in the stadium was reminded to him with the strength of a punch. All of them had their eyes fixed on him.  
Then and only then, Luck realized how awkward their gazes were. Like they were watching some kind of curiosity, or rather, a dangerous beast.

To his own surprise, those looks hit Luck harder than an actual punch. It left him dazed.

There was a last ceremony, during which the heads thanked the pupils for their hard work, as well as their professors for having guiding them, and whished them the best for the future… But nobody was really listening. Luck being the first. When the ceremony finally ended, one of the adults, apparently the guy who was managing the event, came to him, and put a hand on is shoulder in a friendly way. However, it was trembling.

"Here you go, young one..."

He put a rather small bag into Luck's hands. The tingling sound of coins made the young boy open his eyes wide. Why was he given money?

"This is your price... which you won fair and square... by defeating all your opponent during this tournament.", the man said, as if read through Luck's mind. "Again, congratulations on your victory."

The tone of his voice wasn't giving away any pride or joy. And by the way he quickly let go of Luck, turned on his heels, and left, it was obvious he wanted to end this event as fast as possible.

Unaware of the reason of his uneasiness, Luck tilted his head to the side, and stared at the purse. A price? Maybe he hadn't listened closely enough to the rules, because he couldn't remember there was something at stake in this tournament thing. On the instant, it confused him. Then, he saw the golden and silver glimmers of the coins. Even if the value of silver, golden, and regular coins, as well as any other money-related stuff, was quite complicated for him to understand completely, he had a hunch the amount of money in this bag was substancial. And it was for him?

_Wow... Mom will be so happy when she hears that!_

Luck's heart swelled with joy. Maybe... Maybe that with this money, his mom would get better? She wouldn't have to worry about food and other stuff for a long time... _I wonder how much is there in this price... Is it more than what I could get by working for Dolores?_

Luck chuckled. Oh, was it of any importance, anyway? As long as he could please his mom...

Suddenly, a shudder ran down his spine. Like an animal at bay, he tucked his head into his shoulders, holding the purse close. Almost everyone had left, and small groups of pupils had formed here and there, animated by whispered conversations. It wouldn't have been so unsettling if there wasn't all these glances cast at him, twinkling with either fear, mistrust, or hate. Luck felt a lump in his throat; all of a sudden, the room had become awfully wide, as he was standing alone, feeling so far away from all these people around him, even though they were just a few steps ahead. 

Although his face didn’t change by an inch, Luck's mood drastically changed. All his happiness and cheerfulness had gone, replaced by the cold emptiness from before. 

Luck would have preferred not to be reminded of this awful sensation.

Feeling out of place, he headed to the outside. The day was coming to an end. He had to go back home... But as he walked the corridor to reach the exit, the fearful whispers followed him all along.

“Regular people don’t win against nobles…”

“Oh man… I’ve been giving that kid a hard time, too…! What if he decides to get me back…?”

“It’s so creepy the way he smiles all the time…”

“Don’t come near that guy, unless you want a beating.”

“What a _freak_!”

His legs were pleading him to run with each commentary he heard. But Luck managed to resist the temptation, even when he passed the door, even when passed the fences. It was only when he didn’t sense any more magic from any living being around him that he finally ran. An eternal grin plastered on his blunt face, he ran, faster and faster, heading to his house as quickly as possible, lightning bolts accompanying him on the road.

But no matter how fast he ran, he could never escape the emptiness devouring his wounded heart…

♣~♣~♣

“… A noble, you say?”

Luck gulped. His mother’s voice still weak, but no less threatening. Her features hollowed out by fatigue and illness drew disturbing shadows on her face.

Right after he came back to his home, Luck had gone to see his mom. He had found her wandering randomly around the house, with a haggard eye and a shuffling gait. Immediately, she had asked him what happened. Perhaps she noticed that Luck had come in covered in dust; or perhaps she saw a twinkle in his eye and sensed that something had happened. Luck liked to imagine that his mother possessed the same instinctive foreknowledge as he did.

“… You actually beat a noble using your magic…?”

Luck froze, but didn’t move an inch. Telling his mother about his exploit seemed liberating to him at the time. Even though the news would soon spread throughout the city, he felt the need to tell her the events himself. Nevertheless, he wasn't sure why he had made such a decision. Pride? Anxiety?

His mother had always told him not to fight nobles. She had always said he could never win against them. Now that he did, what would she think…? Would she beat him again? Even though he was _asked_ to battle against these nobles? Now, nobody had asked him to win, and the fact he did apparently unpleased the professors, his classmates, the other pupils… Basically everyone. But… would it also unplease his mother…? Even though his win allowed him to earn a lot of money...?

“Oh, Luck! That’s fantastic!”

Luck didn't know what to expect, but obviously nothing had prepared him for what followed. As in a dream, he saw his mother throw herself on her knees, a smile more radiant than he had ever seen on her lips. Then she took him in her arms and held him close to her chest. 

His heart leaped in his chest. What... what was going on? Completely confused, he stood still for a moment, his arms dangling, unable to move or make a sound. 

“Who knew you would turn up to be so powerful?”, his mother was exulting. “Most people like us don’t stand a chance against the nobles! But obviously you’re special…!”

_Special_. Luck didn’t get the meaning of this word. Special. Was it the same thing as when she called him a freak? 

No. This was different. Utterly different. This word held a concept, an emotion Luck had searched for so long. Something that was lacking in his life. Something that would fill in the void in his heart.

Acceptance. 

And behind it, love.

Luck held his breath, although his chest finally seemed to be freed from a steel vise. And the cold… that dread cold which had taken over his whole body… He could feel it melting as the hug lasted, as he became more and more aware of the long, comforting, warm arms of his mother surrounding him, _embracing_ him. 

And for the first time in his life, his smile faded away from his face. Surprise, confusion, as well as another feeling, a feeling he couldn’t name, had melted his frozen features. Too bad his face was digging in his mother’s shoulder and hair; he would have loved to show her how his expression had finally managed to change.

“And you’ll win again, won’t you?” 

Luck’s heart skipped a beat. This whisper wasn’t a question. It was a request. It was an _order_. 

“Use that power of yours to win, and win, and keep on winning!”

The voice of his mother was trembling again. And he could feel her arms shivering too as she tightened them around his shoulders. 

_Ah… I think… I get it…_

“In this world, nobody’s going to help you. You’ll have to help yourself!”

Yes. Nobody was going to help him. Nobody had helped his mother. Not the nobles. Not the other commoners. Not even Dolores.

It wasn't just a question of money. It wasn't just a question of being wealthy. It was only a matter of acceptance. His power, which everyone feared... which maybe even his mother feared... it could be useful. He could use it for _her_ sake.

To bring her joy. To make her smile.

_Yes… I get it…_

To make her _accept_ him.

_I get it now..._

His little hand quivered. Then, as he let himself get overwhelmed by the warmth of his mother, he felt it rising, reaching for her back. His fingers grazed the fabric of her dress and, slowly, folded to grab it. 

The young boy closed his eyes, enjoying his mother's comforting warmth to the fullest. He wanted to never let go. To stay in her arms forever. She was the one and only person to have shown him love, to him, the degenerate child, the unfairly gifted boy, the _freak_.

His mother stroked his hair. Her broken nails scratched his scalp, but he didn't care. 

“Use the power only _you_ possess.”

Luck opened his eyes again. Their brightness had faded, a cold resolution veiling them. 

_I’ll do it, Mom. If it will make you happy…_

♣~♣~♣

“You gotta be kidding me…”

Crouched on the ground, her knees brought back under her chin, Harmony let herself go to the biting cold. Yet the air was heavy and muggy, making her sweat. The open window let in a draught that wasn't cool enough to help withstand the stormy atmosphere. But even so, shivers ran through the young woman's body, instilling a numbness in each of her limbs, leaving her as lifeless as a wax doll. 

“Of course, this tournament bullshit has now provided you two a lot of money, maybe enough for at least two or three years, depending how you use it... But seriously, just because your child beat one or two nobles to get that cash, you thought it was a good idea to make him believe fighting was a good thing?”

At one point, the blonde head’s haggard eyes fell on the curtains that laid on the floor, ragged as if they had been torn violently out. A fragment of her memory palpitated beneath her skull, reminding her that it was she who had caused this by trying to open the window. Looking for air, because she was suffocating... or maybe it was for something else... Then Luck came to bring her the medicine. She had expelled him unceremoniously, and then decided to take her antidepressants... or was it the other way around? 

“Harmony? Are even listening, girl?”

Harmony finally consented to lift her eyes up. Behind the blurry veil that covered her eyes, she managed to distinguish the thin yet well-built stature of Dolores. 

“What are you doing here…?”, she asked in a faint, broken voice.

“… My, it gets worse every day, huh…?”

Harmony began to sway gently. When did Dolores enter the house? Wasn’t she gone? Luck had told her something like this, or so she thought…

The blonde head took her head between her long, calloused fingers and pushed her nails into the scalp. Her head was aching again. Thinking, remembering, everything that involved her brain had become too painful…

“I came here to say goodbye.” Dolores’ voice resounded again, accompanied with a scent of tobacco. “Then I caught your kid messing with some noble brats.”

Ah… Maybe she remembered this. Or maybe not. 

“Where is Luck?”

“Tch. C’mon, he just left after wishing you a good night. You don’t even recall that?”

Harmony didn’t answer. She didn’t want to bother trying to remember this kind of detail. She was too tired for that. Yes, too tired… 

“I know you probably don’t care about it – and even if you did, you’d probably forget it an hour later… but I’m sorry I have to go at such a terrible moment. For you, especially. If I could–”

“Nobody in this world is going to help someone like me. I don’t see why you would.”

In a flash of lucidity, Harmony glimpsed perfectly this world she just evoked: a pitiless world, where those who held power appropriated everything, disdaining the weaklings like her and leaving them to their misfortune.

As Dolores remained silent, finding nothing to reply, Harmony huddled up a bit more, plunging into an emotionless trance again.

Darkness. It was now Harmony's only refuge. To lock herself up in their depths, to think of nothing, to forget the doubts and anguish that ravaged her every day... It had become her only way to stop suffering.

Unfortunately, reality always managed to infiltrate behind these barriers she had tried to build. She was digging breaches here and there, waiting for the slightest weakness from Harmony to come back and attack her ferociously. Even sleeping had become impossible for her. Her misfortunes came back to torment her at all hours of the day and night.

“Listen, girl.”, Dolores said. “Thanks to your kid's exploit, you have an opportunity to get your life to become better. It is all up to you, know. Luck is still too young to know what to do with all this cash... And seriously! He's still under your care! But look at you: you're not able to get a hold of yourself anymore! Have you sunk sor far into despair you can't even see the light anymore?”

Harmony had enough lucidity left to feel annoyance. She glared at the merchant.

“You know nothing about me or what I feel.”

Dolores bore her stare, took a drag of her cigarette, then shrugged.

“Sure thing. But I don’t need to know or understand anything to see you’re letting yourself wither away. And maybe you’re at your limit, or you’ve had enough… again, I don’t know. But the fact is this is not only about you we’re talking about.”

She pointed at Harmony with her stub:

“There is Luck. Have you even thought of him? About what he feels? Oh, and please, don’t get started about the ‘he is an emotionless freak’ bullshit. I acknowledge he is weird – maybe even crazy in the head. But he’s still your child. And I may not be the best reference when it gets about parenting, but I think that as a mother, you should try to keep a bit more of yourself, if only to help him grow. You said you can’t rely on others… and I assume the same goes for Luck, right? But by acting the way you do, you’re taking away his only support.”

Harmony took the reproach with indifference, her emotions again blunted by the misty veil brought by the tranquilizer. Then, coming out of nowhere, a jittery laugh shook her body.

“Support? Luck doesn’t need me. He doesn’t need anyone.”

The merchant frowned.

“What is that nonsense...? You’re his mother. Of course he needs y–”

“Luck possesses the power.”, Harmony cut her in. “He is what I am not: strong. Strong enough to survive in this rotten world…”

Without being conscious of her own body, Harmony stood up on her wobbly feet, and turned towards the window, her body shaking with spasms.

“You see it, didn’t you? This child isn’t like the others. He is _special_. He has the strength to survive on his own. Nobody can tame him: he will win all his fights… yes, he will win, and keep on winning…”

“That’s pure delirium.”, Dolores countered, apprehension making her voice tremble. “Life isn’t only about fights. If you put such absurd ideas in his head, who knows what he will do…? He’s a simple guy. I don’t think he distinguishes the good and bad like you and me…”

“How is that a problem?”

A gust of wind came into the room through the window; Harmony grabbed the ledge, as if she wanted to hold on to it so as not to be thrown off balance by what was just an ordinary breeze…

“When you try to find the good in things, you only reap sorrow and pain.”, she uttered throatily. “At least, he won’t ever know this. In the end, his inability to cry or get mad will save him… he will never suffer…! He will never know pain…!!”

Behind her back, Dolores forced herself not to step backwards.

"You’re a fool if you think this. You're not only turning him into a monster: you’re convincing him he is one.", she accused her in a dull voice. "Being strong is not enough. Defeating your oppressors is not enough. If he starts to sow terror wherever he goes with his magic, everyone will avoid him like the plague. And I don’t even talk about his weird habit of smiling all the time… Even the worst bandit won't want to approach him. How do you think he’ll fare in life?!” 

Her mind getting blurry again, Harmony closed herself more and more. This conversation had gone on too long. She was sleepy... so sleepy… 

“You say he’ll never suffer?”, the merchant went on, fighting not to lose her temper. “But he’ll be alone forever! How is that different from your situation?!”

The blonde head hiccupped. 

“Think about it, Harmony.”, Dolores insisted in a more levelled tone. “If you love your kid, then think of him first and act accordingly. He’s still a child: he has a lot yet to learn. Don’t lead him on the wrong path, or else you’ll definitely have failed at absolutely everything in life.”

With these words, Dolores went away, leaving Harmony alone with her torments. 

Even long after she left, Harmony still hadn’t moved from her position. The wind outside was becoming stronger and colder. Again, a flash of lucidity made her close the window. Then, sliding on the floor like a ghost, she sat down at the foot of her bed and took her head in her hands. Her migraines had returned to assail her.  
With a trembling hand, Harmony grabbed the pills on the bedside table and, without bothering to use a glass of water, swallowed some.

She had failed everything in life. That was true. But… had she really failed with Luck?

Of course she had. She had known it since the very instant of his birth: she would never be a good mother for her son. He had been unwanted to begin with… and during all his short life, he had appeared like a stranger to her. Though he physically looked like her, the two of them had nothing in common.

_And that’s exactly why Luck will achieve what he wants in life…_

Despite the blurriness of her mind, the pain still made her head ache. _Did I take my pills…?_ Harmony swallowed some other without questioning herself even further.

_Luck will live free from sorrow and pain… because he is strong enough to… fight against life…_

Her thoughts became more and more incoherent. Soon, she wasn’t able to form a decent sentence, whether aloud or in her mind. 

She was feeling queasy; very queasy. And although her eyelids were heavy, she couldn't close them. As if she was afraid to fall asleep.

_I can’t take this anymore…_

She had had enough. She wanted the pain to stop.

As she was struggling with it, the mental image of her son came flashing before her eyes. Her son... Her unwanted, yet beloved son...

_Luck doesn’t need me… Nobody in this world needs me… I’m only a failure… I'll only... drag him down..._

She swallowed some pills again, without noticing it. Not even when she almost choked with them.

_You will thrive freely, my dear child… Please… try… to..._

Her thoughts were now beyond her control. Sleep eventually came: so attractive, so comforting, unlike her last nights of insomnia...

_Be… happy… Please…_

Then she let herself sink into darkness, her last refuge.

♣~♣~♣

When Luck woke up, his room was plunged into darkness. A glance towards the curtainless window told him that the lack of light was due to the sky full of black clouds. The familiar sound of thunder echoed in the distance; a storm was coming close.

Luck sat down on his bed. He had no idea what time it might be. Probably it was still the middle of the night... Yet he felt no fatigue. A strange feeling had suddenly seized him, chasing away all traces of sleep. 

With his heart pounding, Luck waited until his sight had become accustomed to the darkness. Something was wrong. He didn't know what exactly, or what made him think that, but he felt it in his guts. 

The young boy stood up, aware that the tremors which shook him were not due to the cold. Without thinking, he walked to his mother's room. Again, a hunch.

A sound of repetitive blows accompanied him as he walked up the dark corridor. A smell of dampness soon invaded the space – rain had begun to fall outside.

As he reached the closed door, an invisible force made him stop. The hairs on his neck stood up, while an icy shiver ran down his spine. There was something abnormal in that house. And it was coming from the other side of that door.

Luck had to muster all his willpower not to back down. He _had_ to know what was wrong. Besides, there was a good chance his hunch had something to do with his mother: he _had_ to go in and see if she was alright.

Luck grabbed the handle with a sweaty hand, and pushed the fighter. Outside, the thunder rumbled again, albeit a little louder. 

The door creaked on its hinges. Luck at first only slightly ajar, still held back by the intangible foreboding that froze his blood. 

The room was plunged into darkness, like the rest of the house. A hesitation prevented Luck from fetching the light crystal switch. 

There was something here in this room that made him uncomfortable.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, at the same time as a thunderclap sounded like a detonation, covering for a moment the sound of the pouring rain. The bluish light, though brief, gave Luck's eyes a vision he would never forget.

_Mom?_

Blinded by the bright light, it took a while for his eyes to get used to the darkness again. When Luck could see the outline of things again, the image that had appeared to him was superimposed on the silhouette lying on the ground, giving it shape and color without him having to turn on the lights.

Luck suddenly realized what had woken him up. The nature of the "something" responsible for his discomfort appeared to him with cruel clarity.

His mother's body no longer exuded an ounce of magic.

♣~♣~♣

The rain was pouring. The sky, black as ink, was illuminated intermittently by lightning hidden between the thick clouds. From time to time, the thunder roared, more or less muffled depending on the proximity of the lightning.

Dolores tied up her hair, looked at her cigarette pack next to her, and sighed. The air was too humid to burn one properly. For the moment, the merchant cursed the fickle weather: the storm had found nothing better than to come down on her right after she had finally ended her lease, after much negotiation with the landlord. Not only the latter was glad to see her leave after so many unpaid bills, but that had also heavily insisted on being reimbursed for the last three months for which Dolores had not been able to pay her rent. Luckily for her, for she had negotiations in her blood, the landlord agreed to give her a month to pay it all back.

The merchant inspected the mud curtain she had built at the entrance of her caravan as a meagre protection against the rain. She noted in a corner of her mind that she would get a real waterproof curtain as soon as she could afford it. Because if her magic gave up on her, she would need at least an hour of cleaning...

While removing her cup of coffee from the stove on the wooden floor of her cart, Dolores chased away for the hundredth time the little voice that whispered to her that she could have avoided being in the middle of the storm, if she had done so earlier to complete her preparations for the trip. Because, thinking back, she could have left Yvon two days ago if she hadn't dragged her feet…

The thirty-year-old turned off the stove, leaned against a box, and sipped her coffee. The taste on her tongue seemed much more bitter than usual.

Dolores held back a sigh of frustration. She knew full well that leaving the Voltia family to fend for itself while it was in a tailspin was the least responsible thing to do. But morals and sense of responsibility couldn’t feed her. When you were a commoner and times were hard, you just stopped worrying about your neighbors and focused on your own survival. It had always been like that, and there was no reason for it to change...

_And anyways, what do you want to do? There is nothing you can do to help them._

These words, Dolores had repeated them to herself over and over again, for two days now. But that was not enough to lighten her conscience. Visiting Harmony the day before hadn't helped matters at all...

The poor woman... when Dolores saw her, she immediately compared her to a faded flower. Weakened, letting herself wither, but still keeping a vestige of her beauty of yesteryear... A beauty that she could make bloom again, if only she could get her act together. But life had treated her too badly for that… Hope had definitely left this woman; it was obvious when you looked into her eyes.

And Luck... that poor kid was going to end up in a bad way because of the crazy ideas that his delirious mother had put in his head. But then again, what to do? Dolores couldn't afford to play nanny forever!

The merchant shook her head. This family had the knack to make her racking her brain…

_That's what it costs to go and say goodbye... I should as well have left without saying a word._

But she couldn’t have helped it. Since she had known Harmony, she had never deviated from her little habit of visiting her every time she left Yvon and went back. Looking back, witnessing the young woman's decline was extremely painful. But Dolores was to blame for becoming so attached... she who dared to call herself lonesome! What a joke.

Suddenly, hard knocks on one of the wooden doors called out to her. His first thought was that someone was trying to rob his cart - not for the first time. Putting her cup down carefully, she got down on all fours, her brain already imagining a ploy to scare off the intruder. Hopefully the intruder would not be a bandit with a magic too strong for her...

“Dolores?”

The merchant could not believe her ears at first. Then, when the voice called out her name again, she rushed to create an opening in her mud wall. On the other side, a soggy, barefoot Luck was panting loudly.

“What the...?! What the hell are you doing here? And under this pouring rain?!”

Without waiting for an answer, she reached out her arm to bring him to safety, but the boy dodged it. Perhaps it was an effect of the darkness, but his face looked more sinister then usual, despite his lips raised in a strange, eerie grin.

"D-Dolores... M-mom is... M-m-mom..."

Dolores' blood froze in her veins. This time, she grabbed Luck so hard that the frail boy could not resist, and dragged him inside without leaving him the opportunity to protest. Without taking the time to give him anything to dry himself, she shook him by the shoulders.

"What's wrong with your mother? What happened?”

"She... she...” Impossible to tell if it was cold, fear, or something else that made Luck tremble even in his voice. "Sh-she doesn’t m-move... and her... her m-magic has... has..."

Dolores didn't let him finish. She grabbed a towel that miraculously wasn't too wet, put it on the boy's waterlogged hair, and took him by the shoulders again.

"Stay here and dry yourself off. I'll go and see her. You don't go out until I’m back. Do you understand me?" she ordered.

Luck nodded feverishly, clutching the towel as if his life depended on it. Cursing once again the weather – as well as her haste that made her forgot to take an umbrella – Dolores hurried to the Voltia’s home.

Fortunately, she had set up her cart near their house... 

Dolores found Harmony's room relatively easily, thanks to the doors left open by Luck. She turned on the lights, and suddenly it was as if all her strength had abandoned her.

Harmony laid on the floor, inert. A trickle of mixed saliva and blood escaped from between her cracked lips. No more magic emanated from her emaciated body, and her grimoire was no longer in sight. With small steps, as if she feared to disturb her in a sleep from which she would, however, never wake, Dolores approached, knelt down and, as if to convince herself of the obvious, took the young woman's pulse. Nothing.

Harmony Voltia was dead.

♣~♣~♣

They wanted to call a doctor to diagnose the cause of death. But the only one available lived in the upper town, and did not wish to travel in this horrible weather, let alone to inspect the already cold body of a commoner.

The old apothecary from whom Luck had bought his mother's medicine all those years had been more accommodating. With his knowledge of medicine, he established that it was the young woman's heart that had suddenly given out. Heart attack, in short. But taking large quantities of medication could just as well have induced this effect...

In any case, there was nothing more to do. Harmony Voltia had definitely gone. 

When the rain finally subsided and the sunrise finally brought some clarity to the cloudy sky, a few locals helped Dolores carry her to the cemetery.

The latter, located on the edge between the upper and lower parts of the city, was rather sketchy. It was a large square of muddy earth bounded by portions of low walls eaten away by ivy. The tombs were not less austere, with mere stone slabs carved with the person's name and dates of birth and death. The corner cutter brought Harmony's stone slab not long after the tomb was dug.

Throughout the burial, which took place without much ceremony and in the darkest of moods, Luck watched from a distance as the adults moved his mother's lifeless body, placed her in a coffin made of polished wood, and then buried her without further ado. He watched absolutely every move they made, all with a detachment he had never felt before. It seemed as if his spirit had also left his body.

The return of the rain brought him back to his senses. Thinner than the rain that fell in the night, it was not accompanied by a storm. The smell of petrichor filled the young boy's nostrils, while a deadly cold crept into his bones. But what was the difference with the cold that had inhabited him since he had stopped sensing his mother's magic?

It was only when the commoners who had come to help with the burial finally moved away that Luck dared to finally approach the grave with some self-assured deception. The muddy, slippery ground almost made him skid several times and cold his feet – but he didn't care. He only had eyes for the stone slab with the name he knew so well.

_Harmony Voltia_

“…”

He thus remained standing, staring at the stele and the ground turned over just in front of it without seeing them. In his back, he heard, despite the crackling of the rain, voices whispering.

“From what they say, sounds like she just up and died…”

“She did seem to be under a lot of stress.”

Their words ricocheted against Luck's mind, without him being able to assimilate them perfectly. Their presence, on the other hand, he felt it, and he was annoyed by it. Why could he feel their magic and not his mother's? Where had she gone...?

“She left her kid behind, too. Poor thing must be heartbroken.”

Luck felt his heart squeeze. What if his mother had left him because he hadn't satisfied her enough? He had promised her he would win fights... win, again and again... with his own power... to make her happy...

“Well… I don’t know about that. he’s a strange one.” 

But what if… it hadn’t been enough?

“His mother’s dead…” 

What if she had grown too tired of waiting? What if he hadn’t satisfied her enough?

“… and he’s smiling.”

With his mouth open in a silent call, his lips stretched out in a smile he couldn't erase, Luck stood still. Rain was pouring down on his face; a wet veil had formed before his eyes, blurring the characters he had read several times without ever holding them back.

Then suddenly, the rain stopped. Luck blinked his eyelids, chasing away the water that had accumulated, and turned his head slightly. Dolores stood next to him with an umbrella in her hand.

"Are you so eager to join her that you're trying to catch your death of cold?" she uttered in a strangely hoarse voice. "Don't just stand there, you fool. You'd better get home.”

Once again, the words slipped over his mind, without lingering. By the time Luck looked back at the stone stele, he had already forgotten them.

A silence that seemed to last an eternity settled in, before Dolores put a hand on his shoulder. Luck was abstractedly surprised that she didn't shake it as she used to do.

“Come on, Luck. There's nothing more you can do for her.”

As she tried to take him by the arm, Luck suddenly broke free.

“No...!”

It was the first time he had said a word in several hours. His voice was so hoarse, so muted, that he didn't recognize it.

"No...", he repeated. "Mom needs me. I have to... stay with her... wait for her to come back..."

As he kept his eyes glued to the stone stele, he did not see the reaction of the merchant. She finally sighed.

"Luck. Your mother won’t ever come back. I know it's hard to accept, but she's..."

"She will come back."

Luck didn't want to listen to Dolores any longer. She was only telling lies. Yes, lies...

"She's going to come back... she's just mad because I didn't win enough fights... I just... I just have to win more. To make her proud. To make her happy..."

A sound similar to a clack of a tongue resonated at his side. Like the words of the inhabitants, like those of Dolores, this noise soon fell into oblivion, swallowed by the emptiness that consumed Luck from within.

"Tch...! Even crazier than..." (She sighed again.) "Oh well, you know what? Just do whatever you want to do. Stupid moron..."

The umbrella disappeared over his head, and the rain came back to assail his cold body.

There was a pause, in which Luck kept sensing Dolores’ presence near him. Then the variegated head said:

"But if you ever change your mind and pull yourself together hard enough to regain some common sense, you can come and squat in my cart. I'm going to stick around a little longer than I thought, after all..."

For once, Luck managed to engrave these last words in his mind. However, the emptiness within him was still too great for them to produce the slightest reaction in him. 

"If you need anything, you know where to knock..."

The sound of her footsteps, as well as her magic moving away, indicated to Luck that Dolores was leaving. The other commoners had deserted the place as well.

Luck was alone.

In every sense of the word.

_No... Mom would never leave me alone._

The young boy approached the stele and sat down in front of it.

_Not if I can please her._

The muddy ground stained his pants and froze him even more. But he didn’t feel it.

_Not if I can make her happy._

Luck brought his knees under his chin and crossed his arms over. 

_And for that..._

The rain kept on running down across his face, digging furrows from his eyes to his mouth.

"I'll win, again and again. I will become stronger, and win every battle."

The water seeped between his teeth clenched in an eternal, frozen smile. 

“I’ll keep on winning. I’ll win, again and again, using only my own power. I promise you.”

It had a salty taste.

“So, one day… You’ll take me in your arms again, ok, Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hands over boxes of tissues*
> 
> Now let's cry together... T^T


	6. V - Wanderer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it me, or are the chapters becoming longer and longer each time...? x') 
> 
> Anyways, now that we've explored all of Luck's flashbacks we're in for a lot of original story! Please keep in mind that I based my work upon theories and original content. 
> 
> Have a good reading!

The ungainly singing of the crows completely woke Dolores, whose back pain was already stirring awake. After an oath to the birds of misfortune, the woman with the variegated hair stood up and mechanically grabbed her stove and a cup, so as to make herself a coffee. If you're going to be awake at dawn, you might as well get a little whiplash. 

Dolores inspected her stock of goods with an expert eye. The smell, although strong and persistent, barely made her wrinkle her nose. As she was sleeping in her cart, her sense of smell might had gotten used to it... unless those damn medicinal herbs had simply deprived her of any sense of smell.

_It’s what it takes when you retrain…_

Her thought gave her a mocking grin, as she tried by all means to stretch out to chase away the aching in her back. In vain; maybe her body had become too old to support activities requiring effort, flexibility and endurance. But no one had better try to tell her to her face: yes, she was going to turn forty this year, and so what? She would only be impotent on the day she die and gets burried…!

Guided by an association of ideas, Dolores unconsciously went to the back of her wagon. When she noticed that the small space between two crates, where several crumpled sheets laid on the floor, was empty, she let out a little sigh.

While finishing her coffee, Dolores glanced up at the sky. Its grayish complexion contrasted with the softness of the air, which they owed to the good season. At least there was no wind to stir up the dust and pollen that was playing on the merchant's relatively sensitive nose.

Although... perhaps her conversion to an herbalist had vaccinated her against all kinds of olfactory attacks from plants, she thought to herself with another mocking grin.

Now perfectly awake, Dolores went to reorganize her things, in order to go to the market of the upper town. However, when she set off, dragging her cart with the sheer strength of her arms, she made a small detour.

It was the beginning of the month, and she had a ritual to perform.

It had been four years since Harmony had passed away. Since then, at the beginning of every month, Dolores applied herself to visit her grave. Quite an amazing amount of attention from a loner like her, she was whispered behind her back. And to tell the truth, Dolores was the first to confirm these tales. But... Harmony had been different. In spite of the misfortunes that had tortured her and plunged her into madness, she had been the closest thing to a friend for Dolores. As for knowing if it had been reciprocal...

On the way, Dolores distractedly glanced around her. Maybe would she spot a familiar blond head on the way... But when the herbalist finally arrived in sight of the cemetery, she hadn't met anyone. And in all honesty, she didn't know if she should be relieved about it or worried about it...

Dolores parked her cart, sealed the wheels by bogging them down with her Mud Magic – a rudimentary security, but one that had its effectiveness – and entered the enclosure with a wreath of flowers in her hand.

Suddenly she stopped. There was someone else in the cemetery.

 _An inhabitant who’d come to pay his respects?_ No. Dolores would not have frozen like that if it had been just an ordinary person. Dressed in a long black cape with torn edges, the stranger looked more like a traveler or one of those beggars wandering from city to city in search of food and shelter. The presence of a bag carried across the shoulder in the individual's back made Dolores lean towards the first solution. And seriously, no beggar was tall and broad-shouldered…

When he noticed her approaching, the stranger startled. At the same moment, Dolores froze again.

The tomb this man had come to visit was Harmony's.

The man's face was half hidden behind the shadows of his large hood, but Dolores guessed black hair and black beard, as well as two stormy blue eyes. The traveler bowed respectfully, then walked away without a word. Distrustful, Dolores watched him from the corner of her eye. Then, arriving in front of the tomb, she noticed that a solitary strand, decorated with two groups of small blue flowers, had been deposited there. 

Forget-me-nots.

Perplexed, she turned to the stranger who was walking away.

"Did you know her?”

The individual startled again, turned back, looked around, and then, seeing that they were alone, ventured to answer:

"I beg your pardon?”

"It was you who laid down these flowers?", said the woman, pointing to the solitary strand.

"Ah... No, they were already there when I arrived.”

Dolores raised a circumspect eyebrow. Then it is perhaps _him_ who had...

Shrugging as if for herself, she knelt down and laid her own wreath of flowers.

"... and you, did you know her?”

Without ceasing to observe the unknown guy from the corner of her eye, Dolores answered without standing up:

"I was her neighbor.”

She hesitated; but what more could she say? That she had been her friend, but such a bad friend that she couldn't prevent the worst from happening? No, certainly not – let alone to a complete stranger.

“That said, I take it that you knew her well.", she went on.

"Oh... Not that well, actually. I only met her briefly ... and that was a long time ago ... I didn't know she had died since then.”, the man answered in a respectful voice.

Dolores squinted her eyes, more and more suspicious. A scenario was beginning to take shape in her mind, and she didn't really like the way it looked...

"... You are from around here?", she asked in a neutral tone.

"No, I'm not. I'm just passing through. I'm on a trip to... Oh! But I'm failing in all my duties.”

He took off his hood, revealing a chiseled face, marked by age, but decorated with two dark blue eyes twinkling with vitality. His hair was long but not as dirty as his neglected cloak might suggest, and his beard, which ate away at his face, was trimmed, albeit coarsely.

"My name is Cirrus.", he introduced himself. "May I ask you yours?”

His accent was undoubtedly that of an inhabitant of Clover, but his vocabulary and his almost exaggerated politeness reminded of those of a nobleman...

“Dolores.”, she answered. “Say, are going in town?”

“Why, yes. I need to refuel…”

"I can drive you there if you want. I work up there.”

She pointed to her cart, visible at the entrance to the cemetery. For a moment, the surprise appeared on the face of the man named Cirrus. Then a smile lit up his face.

"Oh, with great pleasure! I'm exhausted, after so many days of walking..."

It was Dolores' turn to be surprised. Either this guy was not of noble stock as she had thought, or he was tolerant enough to accept to be led by a commoner. 

Or, on the contrary, he was delighted.

"Then it's settled.”

As they prepared to leave, Dolores waited, while her "passenger" took his seat, for a disparaging remark about the discomfort of the cart, its age, or whatever...

"Oh, that smell... are you an herbalist?”

"Hmm... I’ve been for the past few years, yes."

"Retraining?", Cirrus guessed. 

"Yeah. How do you know?”

The man thoughtfully scratched his beard.

"You don't have the look of a beginner merchant.", he merely replied.

Although perplexed, Dolores just shrugged her shoulders. Then, when she grabbed the bar of her carriage, Cirrus suddenly exclaimed:

"Wait, are you driving your cart yourself?”

"Don’t have the money to buy a horse – and it takes too much attention to take care of these beasts. And I'm not talking about the relics... As for my magic, I'm not tough enough to use it this way."

"At least let me help you. With my magic, maybe I can..."

Annoyed, Dolores looked daggers at him. 

"I've always driven my cart with the strength of my arms alone, and I'm perfectly ok with that.”

Surprised, Cirrus remained flabbergasted by her stubbornness. Then, to the astonishment of the merchant, he got out of the vehicle.

"Then one will be two to make efforts. I'm not going to abuse of your kindness while my legs can still carry me!”

He concluded his statement with a thunderous laugh. Dolores arched an eyebrow, then shrugged again.

"Whatever floats your boat.”

With this, they set off, Cirrus walking beside the cart, humming. As discreetly as possible, Dolores cast sidelong glances at him several times, still unsure of what to think of this individual. Whether the driver was a hillbilly or anyone else, the nobles were always willing to make concessions, as long as it kept their own efforts to a minimum. But he didn't seem to care. 

_That said, if he travels by foot, and all alone..._

Dolores shook her variegated head. What was the point of trying to figure out who this guy was and what his intentions might be? She barely knew him... 

But deep down, she knew the answer. Everything was always connected to Harmony...

"If I may ask you..." 

Cirrus' voice, deep and calm, drew her from her thoughts.

"... Do you know a place in Yvon where to spend the night? It's been days since I've slept in a real bed... "

"There're a few inns here. The ones in the upper town are quite reputable in the region. I'll show you one, if you want.”

"That would be appreciated. Thank you very much.”

Dolores did not bother to answer and, with an expert gesture, lit a cigarette without losing the rhythm of her traction.

Once past the hill that separated the two parts of the city, the dwellings became more present and the roads more designed. When the cobblestones replaced the dry and dusty earth, the surroundings were already more animated. Following a crowded main road, other merchants arrived on their own wagons, pulled either by horses or by "fellow travelers" whom it would be fairer to call slaves. Some other peddlers, among the wealthiest, even had the luxury of moving their vehicles with the help of a relic.

Dolores drove up the artery, closely followed by Cirrus, who seemed hesitant to put his hood back on. In the end, he decided not to do so, probably thinking that the heavy traffic would make him invisible to others. All the more so since he was not the only one wearing a long and torn cape; travelers, though not necessarily numerous, were far from being a curiosity in the region. 

After a few meters, which appeared kilometers due to the compact crowd, the view became clearer. The improbable duo entered a narrower street, though it remained wide enough to allow two carts to pass each other without worry. Young children played at chasing each other, skillfully dodging the wheels and ignoring the swear words of the shopkeepers thrown at them. Here and there, locals lazily smoked a cigar on their terrace, or hung out their laundry in the small courtyard of their home. Some others watched people pass by, leaning against the doorway of their store, on the lookout for the slightest glance at their window, the first source of potential customers. 

"This city is very lively!”, said Cirrus, who unscrewed his neck as if trying to see everything in one glance. "I don't remember it being this lively the last time I came..."

"In recent years, a high dignitary of the nobility has attached Yvon to his domain.", explained Dolores. "As a result, the upper town has developed greatly.”

"... But not the lower?"

"Not the lower.”, confirmed the merchant. “Too many commoners and peasants to deal with. That's not what interests these lords.”

Cirrus thoughtfully nodded his head, his gaze lost in the distance. As he added nothing more, Dolores announced:

"The market is in sight. I'll set up my things, and then I'll take you to a local inn.”

"Thank you again. I appreciate your help.”

"Mmh. While you're at it, take a look at my stall. That way, we'll be really even.”

"Haha! I knew there would be a price to pay!", Cirrus laughed out loud.

Dolores was about to reply, when a cry suddenly disturbed the quiet atmosphere:

"Stop thief! I’ve been robbed!!”

At the same moment, a hooded silhouette appeared zigzagging in the street, carried by a stream of water created by magic. Two enormous silk-made bags were visible under his arms.

Dolores realized too late that the bandit was heading straight for them.

"Watch out!”

A grimoire with a blue grey halo – Cirrus’ one – opened at the edge of her field of vision. The next moment, a wall of fluffy clouds surrounded her cart. Noticing the obstacle, the bandit made a curve. Cirrus turned another page in his grimoire, ready to cast another spell, when a shadow from nowhere outspeeded him. Dolores' blood froze in his veins.

_Oh no, not again!_

Despite the speed of his torrent, the bandit could not avoid the kick precisely landed on his temple. There was a sound similar to the crackling of a spark, and the thief crashed into a nearby porch. Frantic screams could be heard.

Cirrus rushed to where the thief had fallen. The latter was already getting up, although he was a little rattled by the blow. At his side, the two bags of relics and gold coins began to spill their contents, untied by the force of the impact. The thief swore between his sticky fingers, his nose bleeding:

"You again, you little punk...!!”

A blow to the top of the skull, this time, interrupted it by sending it crashing to the ground. The assailant leapt back and then landed softly. Cirrus was stunned as he realized that it was just a child. Thin and scruffy, he seemed to have just entered adolescence, but still too young to have a grimoire. His blonde hair was spiked by the electricity that ran through his body and made small flashes of lightning crackle around his clenched fists. Positioned like a boxer ready to fight, he was waiting for his opponent to make a move, a broad smile illuminating his filthy face.

"Luck, you dummy...", Dolores cursed. "You're not going to start again!”

"Do you know this boy?”

Before the merchant had time to answer, the crook had already got up, his grimoire open to another page.

"This time, I'm going to end you out for good! That'll teach you to meddle in adult business!”

With these words, he projected a watery harpoon at the young boy. Luck tensed his muscles and, at the very last second, blitzed away.

As the baffled bandit looked for him, Luck reappeared behind him and punched him in the ribs. Once more, a lightning bolt cracked. The bandit muffled a cry of pain and tried to harpoon Luck again, but the boy used his small stature to dodge the spell before returning to the charge, administering several kicks and punches. 

With enough concentration, Cirrus noticed that Luck actually gave his blows more power by making his magic flow through his fists and feet at the moment of impact. Even more impressive: whenever the bandit had enough maneuvering power to cast a spell, Luck seemed to know it immediately, and instantly ducked out of the way to avoid the spell. Finally, when he was pushed back from a distance, he wasted no time and cast an electric shock at the villain. And although this spell was basic, because of its lack of a grimoire, it was so strong and precise that the bandit was always left stunned. 

“Hahaha! Hey, what’s wrong? Is that all you’ve got?! Give it your all if you don’t wanna end up in shreds!!”, the boy laughed as his opponent took a knee to the ground, his skin burned and bruised.

“Wh… Just what is this kid…?”

Lost in his amazement, Cirrus almost failed to notice the appearance of another magic, different from the two fighters’, coming from an adjacent alley.

"Watch out!!”

The very moment Cirrus uttered these words, Luck turned around in a hurry, his smile gone. A second later, vines with sharp points pierced his body.

"Luck!!”

Cirrus reacted immediately and aimed at the hidden bandit. But this one blocked his spell and took advantage of it to cart off his colleague, seizing him with his creepers.

"Tch! Too bad for the booty…", he swore. "Let's get out of here!”

"Stop!”

Too late. Thanks to the use of a relic – certainly hidden under his cloak – the bandit and his accomplice suddenly became invisible. Cirrus searched in vain for the trace of their mana, but it had vanished as well.

Leaving the traveler to search for it, Dolores rushed towards Luck.

"Hey, kiddo, you okay? Can you hear me?!”

With her help, the young boy managed to straighten up. Two red holes punctured his body: one at shoulder level, the other near the belly. The wounds were bleeding, but not as heavily as Dolores had first thought. However, this did not stop her from glaring Luck when he looked up at her with a smile – though painfully distorted.

"It's nothing, I'm all right..."

For any answer, Dolores slapped him at the back of the skull.

"And I am the Wizard King", she retorted, furious. "You're really incorrigible!”

Suddenly aware that all eyes were on them, Dolores snapped her tongue and then carefully helped Luck stand up.

"Come on, get over here. We're going to the apothecary. Now you know the way..."

"Let me help you.”

Dolores and Luck stared at Cirrus who, without waiting for an answer from them, picked up the young boy and carried him without any difficulty. A little surprised, Luck stiffened, but did not protest nor struggle. As for Dolores, she decided, after a first hint of mistrust, to let the traveler help them. Ignoring the murmurs and the worried looks of the curious, she started to go.

"This way.”

Then, before leaving, she added for the onlookers:

"And you, stop staying with your mouth open like carps out of water, and go help the guy who got robbed instead, ya stupids!”

With these words, she turned her heels, leaving the inhabitants stunned by what had just happened.

However, it was far from being the first time this scenario had happened in their streets...

♣~♣~♣

Luck winced when the apothecary applied ointment to his wounds, but even that couldn't wipe away the big smile that stretched his lips. 

"You were lucky, little one.", said the old bald man with the snow-white beard. "It was close: your vital points could have been hit. And then it would have been out of my hands..."

Cirrus had a worried pout. Despite Yvon's development in the recent years, it seemed that the town was still in need of a real doctor. And considering the apothecary's advanced age, he would be retiring soon...

_And even though Dolores specializes in medicinal plants, she has no skills as a healer... she can only sell her products, without necessarily using them._

"I swear, one day, I'm going to strangle this kid with my own hands.", fulminated the woman from the other end of the room. "Just to make him regret making me feel bad every day. Seriously, Doc', take my blood pressure: I'm sure it's abnormally high because of this jerk!”

The jerk in question had no reaction other than to continue smiling, his head slightly cocked to the side, as if he was thinking. Cirrus, for his part, struggled to erase his own smile that was pulling the corner of his lips: Dolores' dialect, all the more crude as she was – certainly – worried about Luck, somewhat amused him

The merchant, standing at the window, was smoking a cigarette, her eyes glued to the outside. _She’s probably watching over her cart._ A precautionary measure, considering the presence of bandits in the vicinity...

"There you go.", announced the apothecary as he finished bandaging Luck's wounds. "Take two or three days of complete rest, and you'll soon be on your feet, little one. But beware: when I say complete rest, I mean _complete_ rest, understood?”

"Don't bother trying, Doc'.", Dolores said without turning her head. "It would frankly surprise me if he listens to you.”

Luck, still sitting, opened and closed his fists, before trying to throw a few punches in the air. He grimaced again when a flash of pain went through the arm which had been hit around the shoulder. But despite everything, his smile never left his face, not even when he put his clothes back on and bowed to the old man.

"Thank you, Mister Doc!”

The old man smiled and tousled his patient’s hair affectionately.

"My, my... I'm afraid you're right, Dolores.", the "Doc" sighed. "This little devil is going to cause us worry for a long time to come..."

"Unless he kicks the bucket beforehand. Which wouldn't surprise me, at this rate..."

"Hey there! No need to say such things in his presence...", tried to temporize Cirrus, a little embarrassed.

As if the others had suddenly remembered his presence, they all turned their gazes to him, which only increased his uneasiness.

"Oh... I should thank you for helping Dolores taking the little Luck here. It was very kind of you. I also heard that you helped to scare away the bandits?”

"It’s nothing... and unfortunately, I only tried. But those brigands ran away, and there was nothing I could do..."

"Don’t worry, it's not your fault.", the apothecary reassured him. "That said, these bandits are becoming a real scourge. What are the Magic Knights doing?”

"From what I heard, the mayor contacted them, but these clever little punks must have heard of their arrival somehow, because they miraculously ceased all activity during the entire stay of the Magic Knights. And obviously, as soon as the latter left, they started again... "

Cirrus listened attentively, frowning at the evocation of the lack of success of the patrol sent by the Magic Knights.

"It's really problematic.", the old man said, shaking his head. "Problematic... At this rate, customers will stop coming to Yvon. And most of us will fall in poverty again..."

At this time, Cirrus noticed that Luck had started punching the air again. Visibly very concentrated, the young boy was working on his footwork, jumping up and down and kicking in the void.

"... Hey kid.”

Luck stopped moving to stare at his interlocutor, all smiles. For a second, something in this face disturbed Cirrus. But he quickly drove away this impression and smiled back:

"Tell me… Earlier, when that bandit attacked you by surprise... Did you see it coming?”

Luck tilted his head to the side, his smile fading briefly to give way to a stunned expression. Then his lips stretched again, and he nodded his head.

“Yes, I did. But not in time though. So if I couldn’t dodge it, I tried to shift to the side, so as to protect my vital points.”

The apothecary seemed as astonished as Cirrus.

"Is it true? You mean it wasn't a fluke?"

"Probably was. He still had to be able to "shift" in time...", Dolores spoke up.

"Still, besides that, your techniques of combat are rather impressive... you already fought against mages, kid?”

Before Luck could answer, Dolores came to stand next to him and pulled his ear.

"Ouch!!! Hey, let go of me!!"

"Hey, Mr. Traveler, what’s with you encouraging him in his nonsense? No, because just in case you didn’t know… That's all this idiot can do: fight, again and again! It's a real obsession!”

Luck managed to free himself, and massaged his aching ear. To Cirrus' astonishment, he was still smiling.

"I'm... I'm confused.", the traveler apologized. "I didn't mean to encourage him in anything... but I must say, his abilities are still remarkable for a child his age.”

"If you're talking about his ability to get into trouble, then we totally agree.", Dolores scoffed.

"Speaking of that, I've always wanted to know...", the apothecary intervened. "Isn’t it the reason why you retrained and went into selling medicinal products? To be able to take care of him when I'm unavailable, or when I have to retire?”

"Don't fool yourself, gramps.", Dolores replied in a harsh tone. "It's just a matter of market: supply and demand, nothing more. Besides, I don't know anything about medicine.”

"I know, and that's why you come to me for advice... Which gladdens me, because I can't imagine what would happen if you sold your articles without weighting the consequences!”

"Tch. Spare me your disparaging comments, Doc'.”

She took a drag of her cigarette, then turned her attention back to Cirrus.

"Say, you must feel a little sorry for us, don’tcha? An inegalitarian city where the only one who gets in the bandits' way is a kid without a grimoire – and scatterbrained with that... Not a very nice picture, if you ask me.”

Cirrus grimaced, aware that she was underlining the real problem. The level of insecurity in this city was very high...

"Well, if the kiddo's off the hook, I'm going back to the market. Got some business to run...", announced Dolores as she started taking her leave.

"Oh...? Aren't you taking him back to his parents?", wondered Cirrus.

The merchant froze, and glared at him. Taken aback, Cirrus turned to the apothecary. Embarrassed, the latter shook his head. Fearing he understood the hidden message behind this gesture, Cirrus felt more flustered than ever.

"Ah...! Sorry, I didn't meant... Wait, Luck, where you going?"

Reacting to his name, the boy turned on his heels. His face still had the same smile as usual; you would have believe he wasn't aware of the subject on which the conversation had turned...

"Hm? Well, I'm going outside.”

"Yes, I can see that, but..."

Cirrus hesitated. Then, with a sudden inspiration, approached the young boy.

"But before you go, don't you want to have a bite to eat with me? After all these peripeties, you must be starving. And I want to have a tlk with you about your skils..."

His offer caused general amazement. Perfectly aware of this fact, Cirrus hastened to add to Dolores' intention:

"If... that suits you?”

"I'm not his mother. It's not because I happen to take care of this social case that it's my responsibility."

She blew a cloud of tobacco and then shrugged. "If he’s ok with it, that’s all that matters. He's old enough to decide on his own, now.”

"I might add that you look trustworthy, sir.", said the apothecary with a smile.

"Mmh. Whether you do or not, I think the little scene earlier gives an idea of how much trouble the little prankster going to cause you if you try anything against him..."

"Hm? You mean he'll fight with me?!", Luck asked, surprisingly pumped up all of a sudden.

"Hum... No, no fight, I just want to talk..."

"... Ok, but but only if you spar with me after!"

Bewildered, Cirrus sracteched his head. Seeing that nobody around was going to help him negociate, he chose to elude the deal.

"We...we'll see after the meal, ok? Nobody can fight with an empty stomach!"

His words sounded so clumsy he wanted to hide under the ground. Dealing with a teenager was a first for him, all the more a commoner one... And seeing Luck intensely staring back at him with his big blue eyes didn't help him feeling more at ease.

"Aw, ok.", Luck finally shrugged. "Let's do this, sir."

Luck outstretched his hand. Impressed by his politeness, Cirrus smiled and squeezed it...

"Ouch!"

"... Let me guess: he’s electrocuted you?”, Dolores sniggered.

Luck laughed out loud, while Cirrus massaged his aching hand, too surprised to be angry.

"I warned you.", the merchant smirked before waving to him. “Come on. I'll take you to the nearest inn around.”

"Ah, yes... That's... very nice of you, thank you ..." Cirrus giggled nervously.

But once Luck had gotten out of the shop, Dolores took the opportunity to grab the wanderer by the shoulder, with a strength that impressed the latter.

“One more thing. Whatever you plan to discuss about with this child… Just avoid mentioning his family. He’s an orphan, and... Well, just don't mention it as much as possible.”

This sole explanation was enough for Cirrus to put two and two together. He nodded solemnly, though a bit confused.

After a final goodbye to the apothecary, the two adults left, followed by a Luck smiling mischievously.

♣~♣~♣

Dolores left the two boys alone as soon as they arrived in front of the inn. Cirrus thus entered with Luck, a little uncomfortable. He was surprised that they left him, a complete stranger, alone with the young boy, even though the inhabitants were the first to complain about the insecurity in the city. 

_Well, if they consider me trustworthy... it perhaps can be a good thing..._

However, he could not shake off the impression that Dolores was suspicious of him, in spite of the somewhat gruff sympathy she showed him... An impression that had seized him since she had caught him in the cemetery. Perhaps... she knew something...

Cirrus chased away these dark thoughts. It was no longer time to dwell on the past. Using his friendliness, he booked a room for the night, before ordering a meal for two. Behind him, Luck remained silent, though a little restless. His big curious eyes snooped around everywhere, and judging by the way he waddled from one foot to the other, he was itching to explore.

"Is the kid with you?", asked the innkeeper, glancing suspiciously at Luck.

"Only for the meal. The room is just for me."

"Mmh... Just watch for him a little bit. I don't want this little rascal to make a mess in my inn..."

Luck, still beaming, cocked his head to the side, an innocent, almost angelic look painted on his face. If he hadn't witnessed the violence he had shown in neutralizing the bandit, Cirrus would have found it hard to understand the manager's mistrust. Obviously, this boy had his own reputation in the area...

The boy in question suddenly pulled Cirrus by the sleeve.

"Hey mister. You swear you'll fight me after?"

A little surprised, the traveler was about to answer when he met the innkeeper's gaze again. Whatever Luck had in mind, it was better to force him to keep a low profile, at the risk of Cirrus losing his precious room for the night...

"You're persistent... First of all, let's have a bite to eat.", he negotiated. "You must be starving!"

Luck tilted his head to the side again, without letting go of his smile. Then, as if it was answering a silent call, his stomach began to grumble without much discretion. Luck's grin became twisted in embarrassment, his cheeks turned slightly pink. Once again, his thinness struck Cirrus. Dolores had not exaggerated when she said that in recent years, times were hard for commoners in this part of the kingdom...

Yielding to pity, Cirrus ordered the heartiest meal the inn could offer. When the dishes, generously garnished and with an enticing smell, arrived, Luck's eyes widened. The growling of his stomach grew louder, and the little trickle of drool he was desperately trying to hold back did not escape Cirrus' observant eye. With a nod, he confirmed to the young boy that he could help himself at will.

Luck seemed to hesitate, his gaze wandering between Cirrus and the still steaming dishes. With a shy hand, he grabbed a chicken leg, grimaced because of the heat, then bit into it. His eyes widened again as he drooled again. Suddenly, all embarrassment forgotten, he greedily devoured the rest of the thigh, before doing the same with another piece.

"Woah, there! Take it easy, boy! You're going to choke if you eat that fast!", Cirrus laughed.

Luck didn't answer, too busy stuffing himself, but slowed the pace anyway. Amused, Cirrus began his meal too. The flavor of the dish exploded in his palate, exhilarating his taste buds. The cook had a certain talent, for an inhabitant of a modest town in the Common Realm. Or was it just the fact that he hadn't eaten a hot meal for days that conditioned the vagabond's opinion?

He smiled at the thought, a smile that faded as he remembered Luck. He must never have eaten anything so tasty and hearty in his whole life...

"Tell me, how many days has it been since the last time you have eaten properly?" he asked half-jokingly.

Luck swallowed his bite, licked the sauce off his chin, and smiled again.

"Dolores gives me food, but since she doesn't have a lot of money, there's often not much..."

"I see...”

As he came from a well-to-do family, Cirrus could hardly imagine the daily life of the lower classes, such as commoners or peasants. Since he had begun his journey, he had felt pity each time he saw how difficult it was for those who hadn't been blessed by fate.

"Do you live with Dolores?", he asked between two bites.

"Mmh-hm. Since I don't have a house anymore, she lets me sleep in her cart.”

"You don't have a house anymore?" Cirrus repeated, stunned.

"No, I don't. Since Mom has left, the people who run the town have taken possession of the house. They've also taken all the money I earned for her..."

Anger stiffened the traveler's body. That the city repossessed a property because its owner had died, and because a minor could not inherit it without a waiver – a complicated process, certainly not within the reach of commoners in financial difficulty, let alone a child – was still understandable. But to deprive an orphan of all material possessions and take away all the family's savings and not give him any financial help... what kind of laziness coupled with swindle was that?

"Don't you... have any other relatives?", asked Cirrus carefully, remembering Dolores’ warning.

"No. Mom is my only family.”

Besides the use of the present, the fact that Luck didn't stop smiling while answering his questions slightly disturbed Cirrus. Perhaps he was optimistic about his situation... or perhaps he didn't understand the broad outlines of it. Which sounded somewhat worrying...

"And... apart from that, how are you doing? To live every day, I mean? Do you work, maybe?”

"Mmh. I tried to do casual jobs, but I was always getting thrown out because I would always try to fight with someone at some point... In the end, only Dolores agrees to let me help her with her work from time to time. But she doesn't hire me like she used to. So she doesn’t pay me."

_Of course, it would be the snake biting its tail..._

"You’re quite the troublesome guy, aren’t you?"

Once again, a big smile appeared on Luck's face. Cirrus wondered if he was enjoying the nickname, or if it was just a way to show that he didn't care about being a walking disaster.

"I just want to fight with tough wizards. No one likes it, but I don't care. I just want to fight.”, he casually answered.

Disconcerted by the frankness with which he had expressed himself, Cirrus almost forgot to continue eating. Luck took the opportunity to steal a piece of pie from the wanderer's plate. Without holding it against him, Cirrus questioned the boy again:

"Why do you want to fight?”

Luck tilted his head to the side and kept smiling.

"Why, to get stronger! And to keep on winning!!”

His laughing face had a contagious effect on Cirrus, who couldn’t help but smile.

"Is that why you chase bandits around the town?", he asked him without mocking.

"Yeah. It's good practice, to battle against the bandits. Some of them are tough.”

He took another bite, and barely waited until he had swallowed to go on:

"And also, they are always eager to fight when I block their way. And at least it doesn't bother anyone. Because there would be nobles as another option, but well... those who live around there are not super tough. Besides, every time they get beaten up, they call their families or other super important people..."

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then added in a faint voice:

"I don't want to get Dolores into trouble. She would get mad at me if one of them came to bother her because of me.”

Suddenly, his face became radiant again, as if nothing had happened.

“But with bandits, she can’t! Because in a way, it helps her! Even if she scolds me each time I try to fight one of them…”

"Haha! You care a lot about Dolores, don't you?”

Luck continued to chew without answering, his eyes not giving away any emotion... except the fact that he had turned them away to look elsewhere. Cirrus laughed at this display of such clumsy token of affection. 

_This kid is really something..._ It was all the more true that, if one believed his words, he did not hesitate to fight against people of the nobility... and was even able to defeat them. For a commoner, this was very impressive. However...

"I understand that you want to become stronger, but still... compete with adults who have a grimoire! Do you realize how dangerous that is? You're not old enough yet to have your own, and although you undeniably have amazing abilities, you're far from being a match against a whole group of experienced wizards!”

"... But the people of my age are not interested in fighting! And they’re not interesting to fight either! At least the bandits they have resourcefulness. It's much more fun!!”

"Do you think it's funny to find yourself covered in wounds every time you try to fight one of these thugs?", Cirrus became impatient. "If you hadn't had such good reflexes earlier, you could have ended up seriously injured!”

Luck's expression did not move a millimeter, which worried Cirrus somewhat. _He has potential, but he's totally reckless..._

Then all of a sudden, as if he had had an epiphany, Luck stood up on his chair:

"Hey mister! I'm full. Can we fight, now?!"

Cirrus almost fell backwards.

" ...You haven’t listen to a word I said, have you?"

"Yes, I have.", Luck answered innocently. "But I saw your magic earlier, and I wanna fight it so bad! So, whaddya say??”

Lightning danced on his clenched fists, while a broad smile spread across his face.

Undecided, Cirrus thoughtfully scratched his beard. On the one hand, he really wanted to see more of Luck’s skills – a young boy of his age who could produce such precise and powerful spells without the use of a grimoire was something to be curious about. On the other hand, he knew how big the gap would be, and he was afraid the boy would be discouraged...

Then he looked at the problem from a different angle. If he refused, wouldn't Luck try to go back to the bandits who were rampant in that city, for lack of anything better? From what Cirrus had understood, the blond boy had a thirst for fighting. He couldn't afford to let him put himself in such danger...

_I think this youngster needs to be taught about one thing or two..._

"All right.", he ended up declaring. "If you're done with your meal, we'll go outside and have a little duel. Is that ok with you?”

The way Luck's eyes lit up, you could have thought he had just won the lottery jackpot. As a result, his smile seemed all the more sincere than it was during their conversation...

"Really?! You will?”, he exclaimed, his cheeks blushing with elation.

"Of course. I'll give you a little demonstration of my magic.”

Delighted, Luck got up in a hurry and, without even taking the time to thank anyone for the meal, went outside like a gust of wind. Caught off guard, Cirrus laughed heartily afterwards; what enthusiasm this youngster had! Certain that Luck was waiting for him outside, he finished his plate promptly and paid for the meal, before heading outside.

There, he discovered an empty street, where a few passers-by wandered nonchalantly. But no blonde face in sight.

Suddenly, Cirrus' instinct told him to jump to the side. And just in time: a second late, and he would have been struck by lightning. Not very intense, the lightning spell still left a black mark on the ground at the point of impact.

Looking up, Cirrus spotted his young attacker, perched on the roof of the inn, with a mocking grin on his lips.

"So, just like that, someone is trying to set a trap for me?", Cirrus teased him.

"Hehe. You seem really tough. More than all the guys I've ever fought against before.”

_Oh, really?_ It was Cirrus' turn to smile condescendingly.

"In that case, let me give you a glimpse of the mages from the outside, kid!”

Luck beamed even more, this time with pleasure, and jumped from his perch with the agility and suppleness of a cat. He clenched his fists, tensing up as if ready to pounce. Obviously, he had no intention of waiting to find a more appropriate place for a duel.

_Too bad, we'll have to deal with it... hopefully the innkeeper won't hold it against me, if it's just outside the building..._

"Fine, let's get started.”

Cirrus crossed his arms and waited...

♣~♣~♣

_A wizard from outside, huh...? Let's see what you're worth, gramps!_

Luck took his momentum, gathered his magic in his feet, and set off, ready to swoop down on his opponent.

Then, suddenly...

Luck stopped abruptly, less than one meter from the wanderer. Something was wrong. The air had changed. It felt... heavier. Suffocating. Frightening.

The boy began to shake uncontrollably. Or was it the air around him that was vibrating? And this pressure...

... was it really magic?

All of a sudden, an incredible show took place before his eyes, and only his eyes. A ballet of furious lightning surrounded his opponent. But it had nothing to do with the sparks that surrounded his previous opponents when they used magic: no, those lightning bolts formed a real storm all by themselves, a storm that invaded the space and made the atmosphere heavy, as if Luck had been caught in an actual tempest.

_What's that...?_

Luck's own magic seemed to wither before this overwhelming power. The poor boy suddenly felt small, as vulnerable as a newborn baby. Sweat ran down his skin; his breath became short; his limbs were flaccid and about to collapse under his own weight. It was as if a gigantic, invisible hand was trying to crush him to the ground.

And yet... despite all this unbearable pressure, Luck was exulting. A broad, insane grin spread across his face. He bore as long as he could the vagabond's gaze, which now as hard and cold as ice. The nice man who gave him food was gone. This person was now an opponent.

But an opponent... that he could not defeat.

As if he had read his thoughts, the wanderer suddenly stopped projecting his magic. The pressure suddenly disappeared, and it was as if Luck finally came to the surface after being underwater for hours. Trembling, his body drenched in sweat, he fell backwards, stunned by the discharge of power he had just felt in every bone of his body. His heart was pounding; but not because of fear. On the contrary, Luck was _happy_.

_So that's... a mage from the outside..._

"Are you alright, Luck?"

Luck startled. The wanderer had crouched down to his height, his expression becoming pleasant again as before.

"You look quite dizzy, little one!", Cirrus exclaimed, visibly embarrassed. "Maybe I went a little too hard…?”

"... So cool..."

"Huh?”

Suddenly, all his energy suddenly regained, Luck leapt to his feet and cried out:

"That was so cool! You're really super cool! So tough that you didn't even need to use a spell! How did you do that?!”

Words were jostling in his mouth; the stream of thoughts that flowed through his mind almost gave him a headache. Add to that the adrenaline from the pressure he had felt earlier, and he ended up just stammering incoherently. Faced with this, Cirrus remained stunned for a moment, before bursting into laughter.

"Calm down, kid, you're going to explode.", he gently scolded him, ruffling his hair.

Then, when he got serious again, he grabbed Luck by the shoulders.

"What you've just witnessed is the power of a high-level mage. You felt it, didn't you?”

Still feverish, Luck nodded vigorously.

"And so, do you still want to face me?", Cirrus insisted.

"Yeah!! More than ever!”

If Luck had answered without hesitation, his heart missed a beat when he met Cirrus' stern gaze. Sheepish, he glued his own to the ground.

"... But ... maybe not right now.”

Only then the wanderer nodded in agreement.

"You're a smart little guy, Luck. But despite that, and despite your fighting skills, you still have a lot to learn.”

He gently patted the boy's head, and added:

"As long as you don't have your grimoire, you can always practice your magic. But fighting alone... against enemies more powerful than you... it can only lead to your downfall. That’s what I wanted to teach you through this little “spar”. Think about it carefully, okay?”

Luck blinked, more perplexed than the frozen smile on his lips would suggest. What was wrong with fighting alone? It was what his mother wanted...

Yes… that was what she expected from him... If he didn’t go by her words…

Luck shivered, and moved away abruptly. Worried, Cirrus called out to him:

"Luck...? What’s wrong?”

"... Thank you for agreeing to fight me, sir.”

Luck bowed politely, then turned his heels.

"Huh? Wait, where are you going?”

The young boy paused. To be honest, he didn't know. His mind was confused, and he could feel his heart beating in his chest and pulsating under his skull, so much so that it hurt. However, when he turned to Cirrus, his face remained perfectly still, with the same indelible smile.

"I'm going to practice…! I… I have to give it my all if I want to be able to fight you one day!”

Without giving Cirrus time to assimilate his words, Luck slipped away, his shoulders shaken by a nervous laugh. Like an alley cat, he climbed up a nearby house and started jumping from roof to roof, without paying attention to the tramp's calls. With his brain boiling under his skull, he let his magic carry him, as if he was walking on air.

Thus, without even realizing it, Luck reached the city limits in less time than it took to say, carried away by his mad rush. When he realized there was no more roof to jump on, he landed on the one beneath his feet, almost skidding on the tiles. Out of breath, he stood for a while, before blinking his eyelids. His pupils, dilated to the extreme, returned to normal size.

_... My head still aches a bit..._

A nervous giggle escaped from his throat. How weird it was… this dizziness that seized him every time he thought of his mother. And he had felt it since...

His heart suddenly felt heavy. To his own surprise, Luck found himself regretting that he had given the traveler the slip. He had so many questions to ask him! Like, for example: how did he manage to project one mana so impressively? Could they ever face each other for real one day? If so, when exactly? And above all...

_Are there other mages as strong as him?_

Luck sat down on the roof where he had stopped, and projected his gaze towards the mountains that pierced the horizon. The view, illuminated by the fading sunlight, took his breath away. To think that he had spent four years of his life wandering around the upper city, keeping company with alley cats as he ventured on the rooftops, all without ever looking at the horizon! Now that he was watching it, as if he did for the first time, he couldn't take his eyes off it. The vastness of the landscapes that stretched into the distance left him dazed.

_It’s the outside world... the world beyond Yvon..._

Who knew what kind of wizards lived beyond the walls of his hometown? What kind of magic did they possess? Were they all as strong as Cirrus? Were some even stronger? As these questions popped into his head, Luck wondered how and why he had never wondered all of this before. Yet he was always complaining about not finding opponents with whom to have exciting spars…

“… I wanna see the outside world…”

A light breeze carried his murmur towards the horizon he was now longing for. His gaze lost in the distance, so distant yet within reach, Luck let his mind wander to these unknown lands where, he was sure, other very powerful mages awaited him. Other battles, much more exciting. Much more exhilarating.

Fights that he would continue to win, of course, he thought to himself while a thrill ran down his spine.

Almost hour passed before Luck broke his contemplation and stood up like a spring, a big smile full of mischief drawn on his face.

He had just had a great idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that in my verse, Luck has mental illness issues. Well, I say in my verse, but actually it is more or less canon since said mental illness issues are portrayed in a Black Clover light novel...

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Twitter @AshenAura


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